The Pepper Pot
by dohdiee
Summary: They're both on the run, but from different fates. Being away from the Wizarding World for almost 3 years has taken it's toll on the both of them, but what will happen when they run into one another? Only time will tell.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione Granger had never had a problem with moving out – in fact she welcomed it at times. Running away from everything and everyone she loved, however, was a totally different story. But she had to; she couldn't trust herself around them anymore. Especially after Ron… She had moved to a small, Muggle village in the British countryside. It was one of the last places she'd expect them to look for her in. As if they even wanted to.

Hermione looked up. She did _not_ want to think about this. A tear leaked out of her bleary eye and down her cheek, but she quickly dashed it away. Taking a few shaky breaths, she stared out of the bus window with a solid intensity. She had almost given up magic after Ron's… disaster. She now used Muggle methods for almost everything and refused point blank to apparate anywhere. She thought she probably wouldn't even draw her wand in a fight to the death with the Death Eaters that were so desperate to kill her a few months ago. _Let them come, and when they do, they can have me_, she thought bitterly. But no one had appeared for her yet.

Gazing out of the window on her way to her crappy job in a tiny café, Hermione spotted a flash of white blonde hair in the bustling crowd. She straightened and gazed around, hoping to catch another glance of that oh so familiar hair, but it had disappeared. She slumped back against the uncomfortable seat and stared absent mindedly at the shiny, balding head in front of her.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had had enough of trying to live up to his father's expectations. The final battle of Hogwarts had jostled his view of his father, showing him that his dad was nothing but a selfish coward who only ever wanted his family to back the winning side, and he only stayed around to ensure his mother's safety. But she had gone mad in the end. So he left.

He snuck out in the middle of the night, using all sorts of potions to aide his escape, and made it out without much fuss (if you don't count the stunning of the squealer Wormtail). He then went into hiding in the one place he knew no one would look for him in – a Muggle village – and stayed there. At least for a while, he told himself.

He was making his way through the hurried crowd to his favourite slightly beaten bookshop round the corner when he noticed a mane of sandy brown hair on a passing bus straighten slightly. He narrowed his eyes as his quickened his pace to keep up with the speeding bus as a towering man stepped right into his eyeline. Growling, he shouldered the man out of the way, but the bus flew round the corner. Could it have been... Granger?

"Hey!" Yelled the buff man, "Watch where you're going kid!"

Draco snorted slightly. "I'm not kid," he retorted as he pushed the man out of the way, speeding down the street after the bus. As he flung himself round the corner, he saw the mane step off the bus and disappear into the crowd. He wrestled his way through the Muggles to find her. It would be quite nice to see a familiar face after so long, even if she did want to kill him.

* * *

Hermione stepped off the bus and almost immediately the hair on the back of her neck prickled. She whipped round and saw the pointed face that she so hated appearing round the corner of the street. She gritted her teeth, tried to smooth her hair down slightly, and ducked through the crowd. She did not need this. Not now she was nearly over Ron...

She had been feeling homesick for quite some time. Being away from her friends and her parents really affected her - she knew she couldn't go back because it was her fault, but she had just longed to see a familiar face. Draco Malfoy, however, was one of the last faces she wanted to see. Next to his father, that is. Yet Draco Malfoy was the face she saw, she was sure of it now.

She sighed exasperatedly as she scurried into her cafe. Grunting a hello at her colleagues, she tied her apron on, did her best to tie her hair in a tight bun (though it was really no use - it always got bushier when she was in a moist climate such as the cafe was now), and set off to work. She blindly took the orders of numerous customers but, just as her feet were beginning to ache, she saw the silvery hair once again. In her cafe.

Her eyes widened. Panicking, she glanced around the small space and saw Mollie strolling into the back, taking her apron off. _Shit_, thought Hermione. Mollie was obviously going on her break, which meant she couldn't slip out without Malfoy noticing her. She looked over at him again. He seemed a lot tireder and more drawn out than she remembered him, but then again so did she. It had been almost 5 years since they had last seen each other. He hadn't noticed her yet, but her boss had noticed him. Catching Hermione's attention, she gestured before Malfoy. They had a quick, silent conversation which included a lot of desperate looks on Hermione's part and determined looks on her boss', and eventually her boss came over to her.

"Hermione, sweetie," she said sweetly, "you need to serve the customers."

"No, Lucy, you don't understand," Hermione whispered, "I can't serve him. I just can't." She looked over at him again and, as he slumped against the table, a smidgen of pity washed in with her white hot fury. She quickly batted this away.

"Oh, you have history with him?" Lucy asked slyly. She was always one for gossip. "Well, we can always put that behind us. Now, get over there and take his order!"

"But-" Hermione started desperately. She knew there was no hope as soon as Lucy's sickly sweet smile disappeared.

"I don't hire you," Lucy interjected, "to stand around and look pretty. I hope to get the most out of what you are paid to do. I couldn't care less what he has done to you right now, you can tell me that later. You will serve him, or you're fired. This is your final warning miss Granger."

Hermione almost smiled. This side of Lucy, no matter how rarely it was shown, reminded her so dearly of the severely missed Professor McGonagall. Giving a sniff of submission, Hermione drew herself up to her highest, put on her fakest smile, and meandered her way over to Malfoy's table.

"Good morning," she recited to the slouched, blonde boy, "and welcome to The Pepper Pot Cafe, where the smiles are the brightest and the teas are the nicest. I am your server for today, how may I help you?"

Malfoy groaned almost silently and Hermione clenched her teeth as she poised her pen over her notepad. Then, slowly, very slowly, Malfoy lifted his head. A grimace covered his face as he saw the face that belonged to the recognized voice.

"Granger," he murmured.


	2. Chapter 2

**By the way I don't own any characters - just the story line! It all (obviously) belongs to Mrs J K Rowling.**

* * *

Draco heard a familiar voice relay a chant through her teeth. He felt his lips twitch up but, no, this was not the time. Straightening up and mentally smoothing out his act, he slowly turned around to face the bucktoothed girl. "Granger," he murmured slightly too welcoming as he stared into her walnut brown eyes.

Her nutty eyes narrowed as she stared back into his slate eyes. "Can I help you?" She repeated coldly. "Or are you just going to sit there and look... look... like you?" He noticed a plump woman in her forties stiffen and glare in their direction.

"Now now, Granger," he smirked, making assumptions, "I don't think your boss appreciates one of her little worker bees speaking to a customer like that." He knew he shouldn't, but habit got the best of him and he laughed meanly.

He watched as her jaw jutted out even further and a deep red rose up her face. "May. I. Help. You." She repeated. He cleared his throat and a smirk twitched his lips.

"I think I quite like having you wait on me hand and foot," he mocked slightly. Seeing her eyes narrow even further and her lips tighten, he glanced back at his menu. "What would you suggest I have, Granger? What's your... Speciality?"

* * *

Hermione's eyebrows twitched up slightly as the shock cleared her face of any sign of anger - she had not expected Malfoy to ask her opinion. She was, after all, just a mudblood to him. However, she reasoned, he seemed to have moved into a Muggle village, so maybe this was a turning of events. Her shocked face was soon adjusted as she shoved her jaw back out and pursed her lips. Her eyes roamed across the café and rested upon a delicious looking chocolate cake on the display.

Wanting to be rid of him as soon as possible, she took a deep breath and relayed, "Our chocolate cake has three layers of dreadfully sweet chocolate butter cream, a thick helping of icing cream, and is smothered in gorgeous Malteasers. Anyone would be mad not to try it!" Her eyes gradually narrowed through this whole speech and her voice turned quickly from a cheery waitress to a snarl.

"I think I'll have that, then. And a pot of tea." Malfoy gloated at her with a smirk she so dearly wanted to slap off his face. It was his father's fault she was even in this situation and not sat in her old comfy apartment with Ron, watching a good film and drinking hot chocolate. Instead, she grimaced angrily and said with a contradictory sweet tone, "Certainly, _sir._"_  
_

She maneuvered her way around customers and fellow waitresses to put the tea on and grabbed the handle of the chocolate cake's lid. She glanced over at Malfoy lounging across his seat sneering at thin air - a complete contrast to the hunched man who came in - as her boss came up behind her.

"See, it wasn't that bad, was it!" Said Lucy sweetly. _She reminds me of_ _Umbridge_, Hermione thought nastily, _why do I still work here?_

Instead, she turned with her hand still resting on the handle and replied just as sweetly, "You have _no_ idea." She lifted the lid as she turned back around and heard Lucy do her little squeak of joy. Hermione clenched her teeth and attempted to smile at Lucy, though the look on her boss' face said she had failed. She plopped the cake onto a small yet fancy plate with gold looking trim around the edges, grabbed the pot of tea, placed the two on a tray, and wound through the tables back to Malfoy.

* * *

Draco cockily looked around the cafe It wasn't too bad, considering it was a muggle place. He could almost admit that the rickety tables and the patterned curtains were almost... charming? A petite waitress looked over at him and, as he made eye contact with her, blushed. He smirked, but he didn't do it as he used to. He couldn't even remember how he used to act before he left. He was putting on an act now and he knew it. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Hermione, with a tray balanced on her finger tips, weave over.

Placing the tea and the cake in front of his nose, she adjusted her face to imitate a bright smile, though Draco could see the coldness shining through. He rose an eyebrow slightly as a clatter broke their silence. They glanced at the table and saw the sugar shaker had been knocked over with sugar splayed all over the table. Draco looked back up at Hermione and their eyes locked and narrowed. At once, they reached towards it with the intention to pick it up.

Suddenly, he felt a brush of flesh against his skin He stared at their hands touching and quickly looked back at Hermione, the shock that was splayed across his face reflected in hers. He snatched his hand away, not being able to deny the goosebumps that rose up his arms, and her eyes narrowed.

"What," she snarled, "afraid you'll get Mudblood germs?" He flinched at her words, but as he glanced back up at her he saw her fly around and storm away. Why did he feel that? Surely she had felt the same.

* * *

Hermione thundered through the door that lead to the back of the shop. "I'm going for my break," she spat at her colleagues. Seeing them raise their eyebrows at each other, she sped to her locker and got her book, packet of cigarettes, and lighter out.

People always told her not to smoke. "It kills," they whined, but Hermione didn't care. If they had experienced the same horrors she had, they would too. They hadn't experienced being trapped in Devil's Snare at the age of 11. They hadn't almost been killed by a werewolf teacher when they were 13. Nor had they been held and tortured by a crazy woman when they were 17. She scratched the scars that were imprinted on her arm. _Mudblood._ Her lip curled up as she thought. That's all she was, really. A filthy little mudblood who couldn't even secure her husband's safety.

As she burst out of the back door, she lit her cigarette and took a long, painful drag. Just because she smoked didn't mean she particularly enjoyed it - it still stang her lungs with every inhale, but she needed the pain. The pain brought her back to earth.

_Why is Malfoy here?_ She asked herself. _Why now? I was nearly over... it..._ She thought of Malfoy as she walked round to the front of the little cafe to sit at one of the tables. It astonished her that Malfoy had come to a Muggle village and chose to eat in a Muggle cafe, although, now she thought of it, she might have had an influence on where he ate. It was all very... Un-Malfoy. She relaxed against the cold metal seat and closed her eyes as she let out a puff of smoke. Malfoy wouldn't be staying long, right? He would be moving on as soon as possible for fear of being infected by the Muggles and lone Mudblood. He would be leaving her in peace-

A loud bang roused her from her daze as she flashed up and stared astonished at the door. Malfoy was marching over to her with a look of fury on his face.

"Wha-" started Hermione.


	3. Chapter 3

**Aah this chapter is so bad I'm so sorry! But of course I could never match the imagination of the wonderful J K Rowling, so none of this is mine!**

* * *

"Wha-" started Hermione.

Malfoy grabbed the cigarette from her fingers, flung it to the ground and stamped it out. "Don't ever smoke, Granger. Don't smoke in front of me," he growled. He was so close to her face that she could see the blue and green flecks in his icy eyes. Hermione stood frozen with a look of shock on her face as Malfoy ranted. "You know you'll die if you smoke, right? You survived the worst war the wizarding world has ever seen, yet you're willing to throw your life away on a few stupid bits of tobacco and _paper? Really?"_

This snapped Hermione out of her stupor. "And why do you care?" She snapped, fuming. He had no right.

"Why do I- Granger, you're the only witch I've seen in, well, who knows how long. I'm not that willing to let you waste your life away."

"I'm not bloody wasting my life away you cold hearted, evil spirited little shit," she spat, eyes narrowing further. " This is my choice, you have no right to dictate what I do." Hermione glared at Malfoy as he opened his mouth to say more. "If you want someone to blame for this mess of a girl", she snarled, gesturing at herself, "blame your bloody father. It's his fault I'm like this. If he had never-" She broke off as her throat closed up with memories. "If he had never _visited _me, I would still be at home with the people I love, not on the bloody run, having to find a new family," she gestured wildly at the swinging cafe door, "and I would be _happy._ So don't tell me what to do. You are- You're- You're the spawn of Satan for god's sake!"

Malfoy flinched. He had not expected her to say that. His jaw clenched and his breath came out in short puffs. He looked away and tried to rein his anger in slightly. "I know I am," he groaned angrily, "but I can't bloody help that."

Shock registered on Hermione's face for the second time in 10 minutes. She hadn't expected him to say that. When they were younger, Malfoy had wrongly defended his parents as well as he could, but now he was agreeing that they were wrong in the head? What had changed?

He was still so close that she could feel his breath tickling her nose. The hairs on her arms stood up as she stood her ground. Malfoy stared into her eyes with an unrecognizable emotion. She couldn't back down; she couldn't let him win. It would haunt her for the rest of her life, she knew it. Her jaw jutted out stubbornly and she crossed her arms. As they crossed, they brushed slightly against Malfoy's chest and she saw his eyes flicker slightly. He sagged backwards, but quickly straightened up and locked eyes with her again.

* * *

Draco had seen Granger through the window of the cafe. He watched her sit at one of the tables with a lit cigarette in her mouth and he just snapped. He knew he shouldn't be here - it was being repeated like a mantra in his head - but familiarity was welcome even when it wasn't allowed. Seeing the cigarette hanging from her plump lips triggered his memory of his uncle's last moments.

His uncle Castiel had acted as a father figure since he was a small child; his own father was too busy sucking up to the Minister of Magic and worming his way into the higher supremacy of the wizarding world. Castiel had, of course, been a heavy smoker and passed away a few years before the Great War. Draco believed, had his uncle still been alive, his parents wouldn't have tried to fight on the Dark Lord's side and they would never had ended up this broken. Draco remembered his uncle on his deathbed whispering something into his ear.

He had said, "If you believe in something, never let the flame die and make sure everyone around you knows it's still burning bright." And Draco had promised not to. And he regretted it.

However, he was not one to break a promise, especially one to a man on his deathbed, and he believed nobody should smoke, especially not people he knew. People like Granger. _It's not like I care about her_, he internally snarled as he stormed through the tables towards the door, _I just don't want people infecting my air. More. __  
_

When she brushed her arms against his chest, he felt a shiver run through him like an electric shock. He involuntarily shuddered and stepped back slightly, but he couldn't back down. He was way too stubborn to let her win. "Don't you ever," he started.

"Don't ever what? Smoke? I can bloody do what I want, _Malfoy_," she spat, "and you don't even dare even try to have a say over it. Don't you dare."

"Listen," he growled slightly, "I know I have no say in what you choose to do." Granger looked ready to butt in, but Draco held up his hand to stop her, "Let me finish. I know I have no say. But I don't want the first person I see that I actually _know_ to kill themselves after surviving the Great War. I would probably react just like this if _Weasley_ lit up in front of me, for God's sake!" Hermione staggered backwards as if he'd punched her.

"Don't say his name," she whispered, anger contorting her features. "Don't you EVER BLOODY SAY HIS NAME, YOU FOUL LITTLE FLYING FERRET." She charged forwards and punched Draco in the face. Hard. Again. "Get out of my sight," she spat. "I never ever want to see your loathsome face ever again."

Draco was unaware of what he'd said wrong, but he clutched his nose as he sped away from the cafe. _Give it some time,_ came his uncle's voice within him, _she'll see you're better, that you mean well._

* * *

As Hermione watched Malfoy speed away, she heard the door behind her open.

"Hermione?" Lucy called to her. Hermione sat down heavily and dropped her face into her hands. _Why_ was he here?! This unchanging question swam round her mind making her brain hurt. She felt a hand rest on her back and she flinched away. "Hermione, sweetie, you're not looking so well," Lucy murmured into her ear. Hermione choked out a chuckle.

"I'm not feeling so well, Luce," she murmured back.

She looked up and saw Lucy's wrinkled face inches away from her. As she twitched back, Lucy's features adopted a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry I made you go over to him, sweetie. Who was he?" She drew up a chair and barely covered the excited look she always took on whenever some "juicy gossip" was on its way.

Hermione made a face of disgust. "Just some idiot from my old school," she muttured. Hermione didn't fail to notice Lucy's face drop slightly and she had to refrain from rolling her eyes. People like that annoyed her - the kind that lived for gossip.

"Someone you had a... fling with?" Lucy prompted hopefully.

"No."

"You liked?"

"No, Lucy-"

"Come on, sweetie, you can't have that kind of reaction without some kind of history there! Oh, I know! He-"

"Lucy! Stop," Hermione snapped, "he means nothing to me! Nothing! We just have an ongoing feud! That's all."

"That's all?" Lucy repeated with a disappointed look shadowing her face. "Oh, okay. Well, you still look a little peaky. I don't want you vomiting on my customers, do I. Get yourself home and go to sleep." Hermione tried to interrupt, wanting to explain that there was nothing wrong; she was fine. Lucy held her hand up. "I know how hard you work, sweetie. There's nothing wrong with a little R&R!"

Lucy grasped Hermione's arm and dragged her into the back room. Shoving Hermione's belongings into her arms, Lucy chattered. "It's a shame you had nothing going on with that boy," she said cheerfully, "he was rather pretty!"

Lucy chased Hermione out of the cafe with a leaving statement of, "Don't come back until you feel better, _sweetie." _

Hermione ground her teeth together. She had hours and hours free now, and she had no idea what to do with herself. If she went to her flat, she would be reminded of Ron and Harry and the rest of her old friends. She didn't want to reminisce any more. It was too painful.

She decided on going for a walk.

She flashed back to her flat to change her clothes and leave her work uniform on a hanger, and muscled her way back to the bus stop. Everywhere she looked, she saw flickers of blinding blonde hair. She was getting so paranoid by the time the bus came round the corner that she pushed an old man over in order to get on the bus and away from that hair as fast as she could. Apologizing profusely, already half on the bus, she helped the man up. The back of her neck prickled as she bent over and she straightened up. As she stared around, she made her way to the top of the bus, plonked down on the front seats and saw the blonde again. She straightened up and looked closer at the man standing statue still in the middle of the pavement. His hair was longer and rattier than Malfoy's had been; the man was a lot taller than Malfoy, and was staring directly at her with a sick smile twisting his lips.

Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest and run away screaming and crying. She glanced around to see if anyone else could see him. Noone had moved.

She stared back through the crowds, trying to find the grossly familiar face. Her eyes widened when she did and she realised he wasn't a figure of her imagination: he was real.

"Hermione Granger," mouthed Lucius Malfoy.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is becoming a regular Monday morning thing now wow it's not my fault I prefer writing to succeeding in my other subjects. **

**But always remember, I own nothing but the plot.**

* * *

Draco swept through the streets, still fuming about the less than satisfactory dismissal Granger had given him. How could she not see that he had changed? Granted, he hadn't really been that pleasant to her, but at least he actually cared. She, on the other hand, hadn't changed at all. She was still a pompous little know it all, though she did seem more worn out. It felt like she thought she had seen more than him but, in reality, she had no idea. Absolutely none. She didn't know what he'd seen people do; what he'd had to do himself. All to protect his mother.

And it had all been for nothing.

Sometimes Draco imagined what it would have been like if he had been sorted into Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, or even Hufflepuff. He longed for moments like that - where everyone was out for each other or striving to know more instead of sacrificing other people for their own personal gain. All he really wanted was to feel like he _belonged._ He had started to feel like that when he moved to the Muggle village, but seeing Granger had completely thrown him. Now he felt more alienated than ever.

He slowed down as he went round a corner. He had seen... something. A flash of white blonde hair, not unlike his own, but a lot more unkempt. Draco froze.

His father wasn't looking at him. He was staring directly at a mane of bushy hair pushing her way through the streets.

_How could she have beaten me?_ Draco was astonished. His mind hadn't quite clicked that his father - one of the most notorious dark wizards in the country - was staring at the only girl Draco knew in the whole town, maybe the only one keeping him connected to his wizarding roots. He had been away from wizards for a _long _time.

He sagged backwards. Lucius was here. His father. _"Shit!"_

Draco muscled his way through the packed streets, trying to get to his father and distract him from Granger. No matter how much he hated her and her know-it-all nature, he couldn't let her be at the mercy of his father. He wouldn't leave anyone to that. Probably not even Weasley.

He saw the back of his father's head slink after Granger and his breath quickened. "Move," he grunted to the passersby as their shoulders and elbows made him stagger backwards. "Shit." He had lost sight of his father.

Draco stopped and glanced around with panic written across his face. His father had to be around here somewhere; he can't have just disappeared. People shoved into him. "Move it, son," yelled a cocky 40-something woman and Draco pulled a rude gesture at her. As she started towards him, he saw his father. However, he didn't move. It had just struck him how dangerous this was. Instead, he slipped round the corner and took a shortcut that lead him parallel to the busy market street. It was going to be difficult, but he was sure he could keep up with Granger and warn her about his father when the time arose.

It didn't.

He watched as she scurried into her apartment with purpose, and he watched his father stop at the end of the street and sit poker straight on a bench. Draco hid behind a wall so he could see when, and if, Granger came out but so his father couldn't see him. He felt as though he had been waiting for hours, but finally the door opened and Granger bustled out. Draco started and tried to get her attention, but her focus was on the ground.

"Shit," Draco mumbled. He sprinted to the main street again and saw Granger make way for the bus. He grabbed a hat from the display next to him, ignoring the shopkeeper's shouts of protest. If he didn't want them to be borrowed, he shouldn't leave them out like that. The crowd pressed against him, but he eventually burst through and hopped on the bus after Granger. He climbed the stairs and chose a seat a few rows behind her and, as he sat down, noticed her straighten and look around the bus with a stricken expression. He shrunk in his seat: she couldn't know he was there or she'd go off on one again.

* * *

Hermione let out an unwilling squeak. There he was.

_The duo were lounging on the sofa watching one of Hermione's favourite films (though Ron wasn't really watching: he was more focused on making the tray hover around the room). They were content. Harry had finished Voldermort and, though the Death Eaters were acting more brutal than ever, they sensed very little danger._

_Hermione's hands brushed over Ron's flaming head as a crack echoed outside their room. "It's just Harry," Ron had assured her as Hermione froze, but he got up and checked anyway. His wand was left on the table when Hermione heard a yell._

_"OH!" Ron had yelled. Hermione grabbed her wand and stowed his in her back pocket as she vaulted over the back of the sofa. Chaos sounded in the hallway and Hermione sprinted towards the cause. A flash of blonde hair and a yell of a curse appeared in front of her. It singed her hair as she dived behind an upturned table. Desperately, she undid all the protection charms around their home and called for Ron. She saw his foot poking out from behind a shattered vase._

_"No," Hermione screamed._

"No," Hermione muttered. She couldn't think about that. A wave of fear and anger washed over her as she stared down into the cold eyes of Lucius Malfoy. Her eyes narrowed and she went for her wand, only to realize she had left it in her apartment. The bus jolted and she lost sight of the evil man. She stared around the street and, finally, she found the white blonde hair again. Cursing quietly, Hermione focused on Lucius. He was following the now moving bus at a slight jog and, as the traffic was so bad and the streets were so busy, he had no real trouble catching up. Hermione's pulse quickened as she watched him. There would be no way she could slip off the bus without him seeing her, even if she did attempt to scrape her hair back again. Her hands shook as she grabbed the "Stop" bell. _Ting_. She would have to get off soon enough. As she stood up, a guy with a hat pulled over his eyes got up as well. _Stay on the bus_, she pleaded to the Muggle, _please don't follow me_. She knew her fate.

Her breath came in quick gasps as she plummeted off the high step and onto the concrete. The Muggle hopped off behind her and she got a whiff of a vaguely familiar scent. She turned around for a closer look at him, but he ducked his head and barged through the crowd away from her. _Good,_ she thought, _he was probably just a regular at the cafe._

She had lost sight of Lucius, but she wasn't going to give up that easily. Pushing through a slightly smaller crowd than that in the village centre, Hermione made her way towards a clear-looking alley. If she was going to go, she wasn't about to take a whole load of Muggles with her. Just as she got halfway down the clearing, a slow, drawling voice behind her made her go cold.

"Ah, miss Granger."

She stopped and turned slowly. "Mr. Malfoy," she said with a surprisingly calm tone. "Long time, no see. What are you doing here." She didn't even bother making the statement a question.

Lucius' face curled into a smirk so similar to his son's that a low growl ripped through her throat. Draco Malfoy was the cause of this: he was the reason his father had come to finish her off. "I am here," he sneered, "for you. Of course."

Hermione started to slowly back away, nodding slightly. "I thought it would come to this," she affirmed. "Well, I can't just let you have me_._"

Lucius let out a cackle as she leapt behind a bin. "You can't hide forever, you filthy little mudblood. _Crucio!"_

A stream of red light smacked against the side of the bin with a loud crack. Hermione's heart was pounding against her ribcage as she tried to catch her breath.

"Come out, come out, little piggy," Lucius taunted. "Come out, come out and play." Hermione was suddenly reminded of Sirius showing them who Scabbers really was in Third year and rage exploded within her.

"I don't take orders from sarcastic, evil _shits_ like you," she yelled.

"_Crucio!"_ Lucius screamed, getting more and more agitated.

Hermione rolled out from behind the bin and sprinted across the alley where another was waiting for her. She didn't want to run away from the fight, but she had to get Malfoy away from the Muggles.

"_Crucio!" _She heard the curse hum as it flew straight past her ear. "I will get you, Granger. And when I do, I will kill you."

_"Incarcerous," _Lucius screeched just as a figure barreled into Hermione, knocking her out of the way.

"No!" Hermione yelped from the ground, shocked.

"_Protego," _yelled the figure just as the spell hit.


	5. Chapter 5

**PLOT TWIST HAHAHH ps I own nothing but the plot that is all**

**sorry about the length btw :o) **

**oh my god i'm so happy i got this out on time i literally wrote 90% of it today because stress of exams and revision and university ugh byEE**

* * *

Hermione lay sprawled across the ground as the man with the hat fiercely battled Lucius Malfoy. He was a Muggle from the cafe shop. She had been sure of it but now...

Something clicked. The only other wizard she knew about in this village was Malfoy - Draco that is. Obviously. That didn't really secure anything: Harry had spent most of his life unwittingly living across the street from Mrs. Figg, but she was a Squib. But, if it was Draco, why would he be battling with the man he brought here? And why would he be trying to save her?

"How dare you!" screeched Lucius. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

* * *

Draco watched as someone with the same hat as him charged at Granger. _Shit,_ he thought as he started from the wall he was crouched next to. But next thing he knew, the person was fighting against his father. For Granger.

"What the hell," Draco muttered. It was obviously one of Potter's ever so reliable followers. He hoped. Granger was still spread out on the ground in a state of shock. _Move,_ Draco willed. She couldn't just sit there. His father was out to get her and he'd make sure he would even if it meant getting himself killed.

As his father screamed the killing curse, the person flung themselves to the side, just missing the deadly let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He didn't want his father's already damaged soul to be torn apart - he already had problems with being Lucius Malfoy's son, he didn't need him to be the New Dark Lord. Granger hadn't budged from the same spot throughout the duel. Something needed to be done.

In a split second decision, he charged into the midst of the battle, scooped Granger up, and sprinted to the alley coming off the street the duel was down. As soon as he dumped her unceremoniously onto the concrete with a quiet warning that if she didn't move, he would be the one to kidnap her, he sprinted back to the duel. He couldn't let his father know he was here, but he also couldn't let the stranger take any more beating from his father. Draco knew how powerful his father could be; he still had the scars from the few times anger had overwhelmed his father. It wasn't like his father was really abusive, Draco remembered, it was more that he was in a difficult situation since the fall of the Dark Lord.

A flash of green light shot by his face as he sped into the street, wand out.

_"Stupify," _he yelled, joining Granger's companion in the fight against his father. Darting across the street to avoid yet another flash of light flying towards him, Draco noticed the air around his father becoming darker and darker. _Shit_, he thought. He knew what would happen soon enough.

Grabbing Granger's companion's arm and dragging them down the alley off the side of the street, Draco deflected the curses his father flung his way with enduring strength. "What the hell," the companion growled, "get off me."

Draco rolled his eyes as he barked the protective charms and kept a strong hold on the boy's arm. They finally got to the edge of the alley and sprinted down it. Draco paused briefly to scoop Granger up and barreled on. They didn't stop until they were sure Draco's father wasn't following them, and even then they were all twitching with a paranoid uncertainty.

The masked man pulled his hat off and Draco saw a blanket of pitch black hair spill out. "Lee?" Draco blinked down at Granger, who was staggering up from the floor with shaking uncertainty. Well, he had no idea who this guy was.

"'Sup Hermione," this Lee guy chuckled as Granger yanked him into a bone breaking hug. "I thought... I thought," she stuttered against his chest. Draco felt the corner of his lips twitch up. Glad it wasn't some annoying turd like a Weasley, he was relatively happy to see Granger so relaxed. He had only known she was here for a day, but he had the feeling she had been tense for years.

He turned to walk away, but was stopped with "Lee"'s voice. "Hey," he called, "who are you? I mean, I didn't think there was any more magical folk here when I was positioned here."

Draco felt his face adopt a sneer. "I'm just a little helper," he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

* * *

Hermione froze against Lee's embrace. She was so happy to see him, but she recognized that voice all too well. It can't have been...

"So," started Lee, completely oblivious to her wonder, "how's life?"

Hermione looked up at him, drinking in his familiar dreadlocked hair, dark skin and wide features. She started laughing in the first time since Ron and didn't stop until her ribs felt like they were cracking.

"It's good, thanks," Hermione gasped, clutching her stomach. "It could be worse, I guess. Barely." Her face slowly relaxed into a slightly discouraged expression. She had momentarily forgotten about everything surrounding Ron's demise, but it was suddenly flooding back to her. The reason she had left everyone, the reason she ran away...

"You can't be here Lee," she said bluntly. She watched as the shock registered on her old friend's face. Knowing she couldn't explain, Hermione just sighed and turned to walk away. "You have to leave. Now," she muttered, "I'm sorry. I can't have you near me."

"But," Lee started. Hermione held her hand up to interrupt but Lee just caught hold of it and yanked it down to her side. "Hermione, you need to be around us. You can't stay like this!"

"Like what?" Hermione snapped; he didn't know what she was like, what she'd been through. "I'm doing fine, Lee. Just fine."

Lee sighed and locked eyes with her. "You need to come home."

Hermione yanked her hand out of his and gave him a soft shove. No matter how much she wanted him gone, she couldn't hurt him. Not after all he'd done for her. "Just... Just leave. Please," she whispered to him.

Lee called after her as she sped away. She knew he wouldn't follow her. Or, at least, she hoped he wouldn't. She hoped he knew her better than that. Running a hand through her unkempt hair, she looked back to see Lee Jordan, the only wizard she actually liked, frozen in the spot. After turning a corner, she peeped round the wall and saw him shake his head almost imperceptibly and disapparate with a loud crack. Hermione flinched and went on in her journey.

Almost as soon as she turned onto the main street, she crashed into a chest. As she looked up to see who the chest belonged to, a wave of pure fury overwhelmed her. She grabbed a fist of Malfoy's shirt and dragged him so he was face-to-face with her. She was so close that she could count his every lash, every single scab he had spattering his face, every freckle on his pale face.

"How dare you," Hermione growled to Malfoy, rage coursing through her body. "How very _dare_ you bring your father here to find me."

"I didn't," said Malfoy in general calm. "It wasn't me." The calmness of Malfoy's words provoked Hermione more. She dragged him to a shop wall and slammed him against it.

"Do _not_ make me punch you again Draco Malfoy, I swear to god!" Her hands were curling into tight balls at the side of her body and she was shaking from the adrenaline. Malfoy put his hands up in a surrendering gesture, but Hermione wasn't so easily fooled. "If it wasn't you, who was it?" she snapped.

"I have no idea," Malfoy swallowed heavily. "Believe me, you have as much pleasure in seeing him as I do."

"Yeah right," Hermione scoffed. "He's the man you basically lived to be like, of course you have as much _pleasure_ in seeing him as me." She raised her fist to punch Malfoy in the despicably curled lip, but as she swung forwards, his hands (which were still raised) caught it.

"You don't get it do you." Malfoy was angry now, but Hermione didn't care. "I hate him. I wish I had any other father, _anyone._ But I was stuck with him, so I had to deal with it. You don't understand what it was like having someone like that as a father. And his _friends," _he spat the word as if it was a shot of poison. "They looked down on anyone who didn't look up to their parents. Hell, they've even been known to kill the "Rebels". I would rather not be dead, thanks."

Hermione watched with wide eyes. She had only meant to provoke Malfoy slightly, not get this whole lecture out of him.

"You're still on their side, though," she grumbled, now unsure of herself.

"Like hell I am," Malfoy snorted. "I left as soon as I had the chance, when my mother..." He let go of her fist and ran his fingers through his hair. A conflict appeared in his eyes, like he didn't know whether to tell her something or not. She decided to let it drop.

"Why are you here if you're not one of them," she questioned.

Malfoy choked out a laugh. "Same reason as you, I guess. To get away."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry! I've been so busy and I got out of the routine of writing every day due to not being at college and stuff but I promise I will post more frequently...**

**After exams.**

**Also, sorry it's so long omg **

* * *

Draco kept going back to Granger's cafe. But he still didn't like her. He didn't. Couldn't. He just wanted some familiarity in all the unknown. That was all.

He noted that the plumper woman who looked like the boss kept sending Granger over to take his order with a keen glint in her eye. It was getting so obvious that Granger had started coming over without even being told to, just by looking at the boss' face. Granger's colleagues were becoming on first name basis with him, but not the boss: she seemed to think the customers were just customers, even if they were "regulars".

Whenever he came in, it seemed some of the girls payed more attention to him than the other customers. Not that he minded. He was only a young man after all. It was Granger, however, who caught his eye every day. He didn't question why; she was the one he really knew out of everyone left in this shitty Muggle village. No matter how frazzled, tired, or angry she looked, she always seemed to be able to stand out from the rest.

Each interaction went the same way; Granger weaved over to his little table in the corner of the cafe, sent there by her boss. Draco would ask for a black coffee and a slice of the specials cake and Granger would roll her eyes slightly. There was still a hint of the familiar coldness passing between the two, but the ice between them which once seemed like it would never budge was beginning to melt, slowly but surely.

One night in the week coming up to Christmas, Draco overheard some of the girls that worked in the cafe talking about a staff night out. Granger was trudging towards his table, resigned look on her face and fluffy tendrils of hair floating round her face from the Santa hat perched on her head.

"The usual, I presume?" She asked Draco when she reached the table. This was what it had come to; he could say "the usual" and Granger would know what it entailed.

A brief smile flickered across Draco's face. "Yup," he muttered. He closed his book and put it on the table. "What's this Christmas do I hear of then, Granger?"

Granger's eyebrow twitched, but no other emotion was displayed on her face. "Oh, it's silly really," she grimaced. "It happens every year. We go out on the town and get drunk then really regret it the next day, basically. Especially those of us that have to work." Draco nodded slightly.

"Sounds... Fun," he tried not to laugh. "So, are you going?"

"Why so curious?" asked Granger, brows knitting together suspiciously. He'd never really asked this many questions before, nor had he talked to her this long without it resulting in some sort of huge argument. He decided to let it go.

"Just wondering." He picked his book up again and found his page. "I'm getting a little hungry, you know."

Granger blew an annoyed breath out and Draco had to suppress his smile. How he loved winding Granger up.

Soon enough, Christmas was right around the corner. Draco hadn't actually realised how close it was until the girls at the cafe giggled "Merry Christmas" to him as he left. Christmas was going to be a completely different affair now; there wouldn't be any presents from mother. As he walked along the cold street, Draco decided on going out that night to celebrate instead.

Draco unlocked the door of his tiny, slightly shabby flat; it was a change from his old Manor, but change was being welcomed. He needed the change. Throwing his keys and coat onto the broken chair in the corner of the room, Draco started undressing. He left his clothes scattered across his flat as he walked to his wardrobe. He knew that he would regret not picking the clothes up when he came in later, hopefully totally off his face, but he didn't care at the time; it was a force of habit. He pulled out a white shirt with a pair of dress pants, and an emerald green bow tie. Snorting at the irony of the tie's colour, Draco dressed.

Forty minutes later, he was sat in his living room drinking cheap whisky and waiting until the appropriate time to go out. 8:30 would do it, he thought. His small mock grandfather clock chimed eight times. 30 minutes left. Draco was growing impatient. His whisky supply was growing worryingly low and he needed more. The crap on TV was irritating him - who cared what happened to a stupid character in a stupid Muggle TV Soap anyway?

Growling slightly, he switched his crappy television set off and shoved his feet into his shoes. Better to be early and drunk than late and sober, he thought. He brushed his teeth quickly as he pulled his jacket on over his dressy clothes. He was hoping to get a girl on his arm by at least midnight, though, glancing round his apartment, he realized they would have to go round to her place if they were planning... anything. There was only so much loneliness a man could take.

He left his flat, not bothering to lock the door behind him, and set off towards the village center There was bound to be more than a few drunken ladies staggering around this close to Christmas. He slicked his hair back with his hand as he marched towards the first and only good night club in his vicinity: Fire and Ice.

* * *

Shoving her way through gaggles of dancing Muggles, Hermione headed to the bar. Her hair was meticulously curled and sprayed into it's uncomfortably slick ponytail; her small, golden dress was riding up legs with every step she took, and her flaming red heels were causing her feet such a pain she wouldn't have thought possible if she had not been under Bellatrix's Cruciatus curse. Overall, she felt extremely uncomfortable. She wasn't drunk enough to really let herself go and enjoy the night as much as her coworkers were, so she ordered herself a Flaming Lion. Looking back on the situation, she would have laughed; she hadn't realized there were so many connections to her previous Hogwarts house when she had organised her outfit and ordered the drink.

With the drinks flowing and the music booming, Hermione got drunker and drunker. She let the sleazeball men around her brush their hands over her as she danced with her friends: she was so past caring. Her shoes were (finally) off and she was having a ball. That was before Lucy suggested going to one of the other night clubs in the village. Granted, it was only small, but apparently the inhabitants liked to party. It helped having a University moderately close.

With a roar of approval, Hermione and her co-workers downed the rest of their drinks, put their shoes on, and staggered out of the club. They skipped down the street, singing at the top of their lungs to a song Hermione didn't remember when she woke up. They soon entered the new club - Hermione didn't catch the name. Laughing, they joined the bustling, grinding crowd in the centre of the dance floor. A few of the girls slipped away to get drinks, but Hermione stayed on the floor. Her head span as she danced with the rest of the girls.

As her other co-workers returned, Hermione spotted a flash of emerald green near the bar talking to a typical blonde model-material girl. Rolling her eyes slightly, she excused herself from the group and made her way over in a drunken haze. It was only when she got to about 10 feet away that she noticed that the man had red hair, not ice blonde. Stopping still, she started laughing. It was stupid to have thought that Malfoy would be seen in a club like this, never mind wearing an incredibly cliché green silk shirt. She span back around and collided with a chest.

"Oh!" she squealed, grabbing onto the man to steady herself. It was then that she realized that she had had way too much to drink. She heard a familiar chuckle booming from the man's chest and looked up at his face. "Malfoy!"

"Okay Granger," he sneered slightly, "there's no need to sound so surprised. I go out once in a while."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, still startled.

"I'm out... For fun," he prompted, a smirk covering his face. She could tell that he knew she was drunk, but she didn't say anything about it. He sighed, a hint of a smile on his face. "Can I get you a drink?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Granted, he had been more than civil towards her ever since their argument, but she still didn't trust him. There was no way he could want to get her a drink without some malicious intent behind it. Still, she wouldn't pass down a drink. She decided that she would just be very careful when watching what he would order. "Sure," she said, eyes still slightly narrow.

She followed him over to the bar, ignoring her friends' drunken hoots, and lent against it. She ordered another vodka an coke and looked at Malfoy. He was looking over her head, eyebrows drawn together. Hermione turned around and spotted a man watching her with a cocky smirk on his face. Laughing, she turned back to Malfoy. "What?" she asked, cocking her head slightly.

The man made his way over to them and put his hand on Hermione's waist. She cringed away from him a little, but stood her ground.

"Hey, sweetheart," he shouted over the music, "this bastard bugging you?"

Malfoy straightened up a little as Hermione removed the man's hand with two fingers. "No, I'm fine thanks," she replied sweetly.

The man was incredibly insistent. He snaked his arm round Hermione's waist yet again and pulled her closer. "Come on, girl," he muttered in her ear, "lets go somewhere."

"Granger, would you like me to get rid of this man?" snarled Malfoy.

"No no," reassured Hermione. Smiling slightly at Malfoy, she pinched the man's hand away from her yet again and moved away from him. "I think I can deal with him myself, thanks." She turned to the man with a sickly sweet look plastered on her face. "Please leave me alone. Now."

But the man still didn't leave. He tried pinning Hermione up against the bar and kissing her, but he was suddenly gone. Hermione looked around and saw Malfoy holding the man by his shirt, face to face with him. The music was too loud to hear what they were saying, but the look on Malfoy's face told her it wasn't a fun subject. The man tried to bite back, but Malfoy just snarled back at him. The two reminded of two male animals fighting over the female they wanted, though she didn't really put too much thought into why Malfoy was acting like this; the alcohol was going to her brain, making the world start to spin and the booming of the bass painful. She gripped the side of one of the seats near the bar and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, she briefly saw Malfoy let the man go, fist raised. Malfoy swung his fist into the man's nose before he even had the chance to defend himself. The man bounced right back and punched Malfoy in the stomach. Malfoy went down clutching his stomach, and the man kneed him in the face. As Malfoy straightened, Hermione swore she saw a brief smile flicker over Malfoy's bloody lips.

Horrified, Hermione flung herself in front of Malfoy, shoving him hard and yelling for him to calm down. The security guards were coming over, grabbing Malfoy by the arms, dragging him away as he struggled to get out of their vice like grip. Hermione was torn: she was having quite a great time with her co-workers and she shouldn't really leave without telling them, but this was her fault. She knew that Malfoy didn't start the fight because of her; he had been longing for some action ever since their last argument.

Yanking her shoes off, knowing they were impractical for what she was about to do, Hermione ran out after the security guards.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT, DRACO MALFOY," she screamed when she saw him lent against the wall outside the nightclub, panting.

He raised his head, lip bleeding and eyebrows coming together. "Wha-"

"WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO START A FIGHT? ARE YOU TRYING TO RUIN MY NIGHT OR SOMETHING?" Hermione stormed over and slammed him up against the wall.

"No, I-"

"I know you hate me, but am I not allowed one good night in my _life_?!" she snarled. "You haven't changed one bit."

Pushing herself away from him, Hermione started down the street, hoping to walk home. She didn't look back, but she could hear Malfoy's wheezes getting quieter and quieter. However, she had had quite a lot of alcohol that night and somehow ended up on the floor. She felt a hand around her waist again and peered up, hoping it was one of her colleagues. It was Malfoy.

"You know, you really shouldn't try to walk all the way to your house like this," he said softly. Helping her up, he looped her arm over his shoulders and, in a blink of her eyes, she was in his arms.

"What," she mumbled sleepily. Her eyes were having a hard time of staying open and, though she was adamant that she would not fall asleep, she rested her head against his torso. "Don't think this changes anything, Malfoy," she murmured against his chest.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Granger," he said, but Hermione could hear the smile in his voice and smiled against his chest.


	7. Chapter 7

**Yay I got a chapter written in like a day I am proud ok I own nothing but the plot bye x**

* * *

It felt like a spike was forcing its way through her brain and teasing her gag reflex. Squinting her eyes open, Hermione brought her hand up to clamp her mouth shut, forcing the vomit back down. This was the second worst hang over she'd ever had and she just wanted to shut it out. Trying to roll over in the too comfy bed, Hermione wondered what happened last night. Every time she got a snippet of what had happened, nausea washed over her again and she had to hide herself under the bed sheets. These didn't smell like her's...

_Shit,_ she thought.

She had obviously had a one night stand and would have to do the walk of shame when she eventually got up. This was one thing she hated about going out; no matter how dorky she looked, she seemed to be able to attract the grossest of men and, being in the drunk state she was, would go home with them and...

Groaning slightly, she rolled out of the bed. She staggered over to the dresser, looking briefly and tiredly in the mirror above to see the black tracks down her face and the redness of her eyes; she had obviously been crying in the night. Again. She dragged a shirt that was lying on the floor on, attempted to rub the streaks away, and stumbled through the door. Her nose led her to the scent of slowly frying eggs and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach evaporated. She wasn't paying attention to where she was walking; the scent of the food was way too tempting for her. She plopped down onto a small settee, holding her pounding head in her hands, and heard the rush of a pouring shower. The inhabitant of this flat was obviously in the shower.

Soon enough, she heard the shower shut off and decided to help in the breakfast preparation whilst her one night stand got dressed. Usually, she would be long gone by now, but she always wanted to see who her fling was, even if it was just to shiver about it later, but seeing as they were in the shower at this present time, she would have to wait.

Gently tossing oil across the sizzling eggs, Hermione tried to remember what had actually happened last night. Last she remembered was walking into the bigger nightclub. What was it called? It was a duo name like Heaven and Hell or... Fire and Ice? She couldn't remember properly. Shrugging it off, she drained the cooked eggs of oil and slid them on two separate plates. She knew better than to shout through to her new friend, so she just slid it onto the small wooden table and tucked into hers.

Eventually, just as Hermione was deciding whether to eat her fling's eggs, the door opened.

"Ah, I finished cooking the eggs for you," Hermione said to the open door. "I hope you don't mind." She smiled towards it, but that smile quickly slid off her face as she noticed who stood there, towel in hand and bags under eyes.

"Thank you Granger," grimaced Malfoy, almost as if he knew what was coming.

Hermione stayed frozen, staring open-mouthed at the silver-haired man. "Wh-" she started, growing red.

"It's not what you think, I promise you," Malfoy implored. "We just-"

"You slept with me?" Hermione stood up slowly, hands clenching to stop them shaking. "You took advantage of my drunkenness and persuaded me to have sex with you?!"

"No, I-" Malfoy denied running his hand through his wet hair.

"Oh, that's low, Malfoy," she snarled. "That's really low. I never thought you'd get this low, but wow. Count me surprised. Jerk."

She shoved past him and stormed into the room. Ripping his shirt off, she grabbed hers, throwing them on while she marched past him. She didn't care if he saw her naked any more; hadn't he already? What was the point in hiding.

"Granger, wait," grumbled Malfoy, catching her wrist in his hand.

"Get off me, you _arse_," she growled, swinging round to come face to face with him. "There's no point in romanticizing it, Malfoy. I was too drunk to know any better. Any other time, there would be no way I would come anywhere near you, never mind..." She flushed slightly, but didn't let it faze her.

"I'm not trying to romanticize it, Granger," Malfoy disagreed, a slight pink haze covering his cheeks, "I'm trying to explain. Nothing happened!"

Hermione let a slight growl loose as she laughed disbelieving. "Yeah, right," she snarled, "and I can fly." She tried to yank her wrist away from him, but he held on.

"Believe me, this isn't my first choice," replied Malfoy calmly, "but you were such a state last night, I couldn't just leave you." Watching as she pulled yet another cynical expression, Malfoy directed Hermione's attention to the sofa, complete with pillows and a small blanked. "I slept there, don't worry. I was going to make you sleep there, but you just sort of crashed on my bed and I couldn't possibly move you. And anyway, don't flatter yourself. I wouldn't, you know, do you if you were the last girl in the world."

* * *

Draco flinched slightly. That wasn't quite true and he knew it. No matter how much he denied it, he couldn't stop noticing certain appealing aspects of Granger's physique; namely her boobs. He slowly let go of her wrist, hoping she would believe him. She wasn't storming away screaming just yet, so Draco thought he had done quite a good job.

"If we didn't sleep together, why was I naked?" Granger reasoned.

Draco had to bite back a laugh as he remembered her last night. "You undressed yourself, don't worry," he smirked. As he saw her anger becoming more apparent on her face, he quickly added, "I didn't see anything though!"

"Hm," she said with a slightly embarrassed look washing over the anger. "Well, good."

They stood like that for a few minutes, both feeling as awkward as the other. Finally, Granger pointed to Draco's plate of eggs with a quiet, "I'd eat them before they got cold if I were you. Cold egg is disgusting."

Smothering the small smile that threatened to overcome his face, Draco sat down at the table and pulled the plate towards him. He looked up to see Granger awkwardly hovering in front of the door. "Are you just going to stand there, or do you want a drink?" he asked snappily, gesturing towards the crappy fridge next to her. "I have orange juice, pomegranate juice, apple juice, and chilled water. Help yourself. Glasses in the cupboard."

She shuffled toward the cupboard and, making sure she couldn't see him, he let a grin quickly cover his face. Once she had turned around, glass of juice in her had, it was gone and he was back to eating his eggs. Granger lent against the counter top and watched Draco eat with an expression like she was trying to figure out how to do a particularly hard spell.

"What?" Draco asked with a mouth full of mashed up egg.

"Nothing," said Granger thoughtfully, "I'm just trying to figure you out..."

Draco swallowed. "Well, can you not do it while I'm eating? It's pretty distracting."

She sighed and collapsed onto the chair opposite him, sipping her juice and studying him yet again. Finally, Draco placed his knife and fork down, wiped his mouth slightly with a tissue, and looked back at her.

"What do you want to know," he said monotonously. She jumped slightly, as if she wasn't expecting him to talk.

"Oh, nothing," she obviously lied. She attempted to tuck her hair behind her ear and sipped at her juice yet again.

"Seriously, Granger," groaned Draco. "I'm in a good mood. What do you want to know?"

"Well..." started Granger thoughtfully, trying to think of how to phrase her question. "Why did you look after me? Last night, I mean."

Draco looked at her steadily. "Well, you were in a bit of a predicament, you see. You were completely smashed and a douche was trying to take you home, not to seem too hypocritical," he answered with a slight smirk.

Granger nodded slightly. "I get that, but you didn't answer my question. Why do you care what happens to me?"

"Well," replied Draco, dragging a hand through his almost dry hair, "we wizards have to watch out for each other, don't we. So that's why: you're the only other wizard from here and I think I'd go crazy if I couldn't use my magic. And anyway, I am a gentleman, no matter how much of a complete dick I was to you in school. I'd do the same to any other girl, Granger."

"Oh..." was all Granger said. She slumped slightly in her chair and finished off the drink, looking thoughtful again. Draco didn't bother picking up his cutlery again; he knew what was coming. Leaning on the back two legs of his chair, he waited.

"Why did you bring your father here to finish me off if you were planning on helping me later?"

Draco froze. He hadn't expected that. Slowly sitting up, he looked Granger in the eye. "I didn't know my father was coming here," he said slowly, almost begging her to believe him.

"Bullshit," she spat slightly. She was doing well to remain calm, Draco could see that, but he also noticed the anger bubbling up inside her.

He gave up. Knowing he couldn't persuade her when she was like this, he put his hands up in surrender, his tiredness showing in his face. He had barely slept the night before: the sofa he was on had something lumpy hidden in the cushions and it was digging in his back the whole night. He shuffled over to the same sofa and slumped down onto it. He was slowly giving up on getting Granger to believe in him, but there was just one more shot: he had to tell her everything.


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm pretty sure the college computers hate me oh my god.**

**ANYway! I own the plot and that is all. I mean, do you really expect me to be relying on the college computers if I owned the characters nope I didn't think so either. **

* * *

Draco gestured to the seat next to him and quietly requested Granger sit down. She scowled as she sat, but didn't say anything.

"Granger, I promise you I didn't know my father was here. I swear," he assured. "Hell, I was probably angrier to see him than you were!"

"Wait," Granger interrupted, "you saw him? When?"

Draco paused. "Just... In the street. It doesn't matter."

Granger straightened up and watched him closely. "Okay," she settled slightly, "but why didn't you want to see your dear daddy-o. I don't get it..."

_Smartest witch of her age_, Draco scoffed mentally, refusing to smirk. "We had a bit of a... I guess you could call it a falling out-"

"Why?"

"Does it really matter why?" complained Draco. As much as he wanted her to believe him, he didn't want to go into too much gory detail.

"Yes. If you want me to _believe_ you, you'll tell me." She scooted marginally closer and rested her chin on her hands, like she was waiting for a night-time story.

Sighing, Draco squeezed his eyes shut. "You can't interrupt me. Once I start, I can't stop or I may never finish telling you." He squinted at her and saw her nodding furiously, mouth clamped shut. She was obviously curious. "Okay, well," he breathed, trying to find a way to organize his thoughts into liable sentences. "Okay. I'll start at the beginning. The only real reason I stayed at _home," _he spat the word as though it was the vilest thing he had ever tasted, "was because I had to look after my mother. She doesn't really need looking after, she had reminded me of that many a time, but I felt obliged, you know? After the Dark Lord returned, my father's mentality was getting worse and worse; apparently this was how he was before I was born. Before Potter... You know the story." She nodded discreetly, hanging onto every word he was saying.

"The Dark times were coming back. He had been scarred from the last battle, not that he'd show anyone outside the Manor. This time round, he was determined to get back at those who had hurt him. And I was to be his pawn. You know about my little _mistake_ of letting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts the night Professor Dumbledore... You know..." He ran his hand over his face, willing himself not to break down now. That was a moment to be dealt with alone. Granger graciously kept silent. Taking a deep breath, he soldiered on. "Well, that was only the beginning of his plan. Of course, father said he was acting on His orders, and he was to an extent, but mother and I knew that there was something else behind that terrified mask: something that couldn't be tamed for much longer. After Potter killed the Dark Lord, father snapped. We kept him in the Manor as well as we could, but we knew he was making the newest resistance. The Dark Knights," Draco growled.

* * *

Hermione hung on every word that came out of Malfoy's mouth. She still hated him, completely despised him, but there was something about him now that made her want to believe his every word. Something about the way he said them, like he was truly sorry for his actions. He was slumped back against the bumpy sofa, eyes closed and hair still dripping onto his hunched shoulders. There was just that little showing of vulnerability that made her not want to get up and storm out, to listen to his story instead. He started speaking again, eyes still squeezed shut like his account was so painful that he could hardly bare it.

"So, of course, my father wanted me to join the Knights. I was his son, after all, but mother was getting more and more upset about the hysterical state he had got himself into; he didn't take revenge in the one chance he could have and we could both see it eating away at him. The more he deteriorated, the more mother's health deteriorated. Eventually, as we all knew, she snapped. She killed our latest house elf," Hermione flinched slightly, thinking of the innocent servant that had been killed due to a man not being able to take that he was done for. Malfoy's eyes snapped open and he stared at her, astonished.

"Oh," he muttered, "you don't like that kind of stuff, do you." Hermione kept quiet, just as he had requested, but she shook her head ever so slightly. "Well," his eyes fluttered shut again and Hermione couldn't help but to smile at how much of a small child he reminded her of, "sorry." No matter how much it pained her, Hermione kept quiet. She didn't even attempt to bug him to continue the story.

After what seemed like an age, he opened his mouth again, eyebrows knitting together. "So, he killed the elves, poor little creatures. Next to my mother, they were the kindest things in the Manor to me. My father also had a few visitors round, and she hurt them too. Badly. My father was furious, as you can assume. He got completely out of hand and started duelling my mother. The only thing that stopped him from killing her, really, was the prospect of tainting his _spectacular_ reputation in front of his friends.

I realized then that I didn't belong there any more, so I packed up and left in the middle of the night. I know that, if my father finds me, he will kill me. Because, of course, I am the one who brought shame on the Malfoy family tree." He rubbed his eyes and sat up. "You don't know how much I'd love to change my name, Granger. You have no idea."

Hermione stayed still. She believed him alright. She had seen the pure brutality that Lucius Malfoy was capable of. Malfoy had been able to spill all this to her, but she wasn't quite sure that she was ready to reciprocate the truth. Every time she closed her eyes, she still saw Ron's limp legs, Lucius' snarling face, felt the cold hands of depression clawing at her throat. She drew a deep breath. "That's awful," she muttered shakily.

"That's not the whole story, Granger. It gets worse." Hermione moaned sadly and squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to hear the rest of the tale, but she wasn't sure she could deal with it. When she opened her eyes, she saw Malfoy watching her with a concerned look. "Maybe another day..." he muttered self-consciously, rubbing his forehead.

"No," Hermione groaned, rubbing her eyes violently. She was a Gryffindor after all; she had to hear this til the end. "I want to know. What happened?"

Malfoy watched her carefully, but went back into his story. "Okay, so, my mother was obviously completely crazy now, but I still looked out for her. I mean, she was my mother after all; I couldn't just leave her there with all the other psychos crawling round the place, could I? So I stayed. I didn't stay for long..."

* * *

Draco shut his eyes yet again. The memory was vivid in his head, like it happened yesterday. "She tried to kill me."

_He sat in the vast sitting room, watching his father's blurred figure pacing in the door's window pane. He hated summer time now - there was never anything fun to do. All his father wanted him to do was plot against the Muggles, Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors. That wasn't something he really wanted to spend his spare time doing any more. When he was a kid, he was more than willing to do it, but now he had learned different ways. A few months ago, he met a young girl in the village near the Manor. Of course, he thought she was a little witch; there wasn't may Muggles near them, as requested by his father. She was in some trouble, so, of course being the chivalrous man he was, he saved her. After that, she barely left him alone. She looked up to him, no matter what he said to try to discourage her. No matter how much he pretended it was annoying, she could see that he was glad that she was there. She taught him that Muggles and all the other people that his father was so against could be just like him_.

_One night, she ran away from her home. Knowing only him, the little girl turned up at his Manor. His mother answered the door, as he had let her out of her room for a quick walk around the house. The woman who was once his mother had changed drastically and she killed the child and ran. When he found her body, Malfoy hunted his mother down. It wasn't too hard; she had barely staggered to the end of the gargantuan garden. He brought her back to the house and they met his father in the hall. _

_Of course, he was angry; there was going to be a missing child soon and t__hey were the culprits. Malfoy could barely speak: his mother had just killed what seemed like his only true friend, and he didn't know what to do. His father yelled the house down. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO OUR REPUTATION?!" he screeched in his wife's face. Draco backed down the hall away from the ordeal he knew was coming. No matter how he would have liked, he wouldn't be able to protect his mother from this. His father reached forwards, hands outstretched. His hand closed over his wife's throat and he gripped as hard as he could. Leaning forwards, he whispered something in her ear, but Draco was too far away to hear. He noticed his mother's face getting redder, more panicked, and he fled. He knew for sure what was going to happen and he couldn't stay for the same thing to happen to him._

_As he packed his scarce belongings, Draco heard scuffling coming up the stairs. Opening his door open a crack, he peeked out, not daring to make a sound. He watched as his father dragged the (hopefully) unconscious body of his mother up the stairs and down the hallway. Braving the consequences, he poked his head out of the door to watch his father struggle with the aftermath of his violence. He watched as his father dragged the limp body down the hall and threw it into a room. Locking the door behind him, his father growled something to the door. Draco whipped his head into his room and locked the door behind him; his father wouldn't be able to apparate into it with all the charms and defenses he had put on the whole Manor._

_He threw the most basic of things into an old backpack, complete with the Undetectable Extension Charm, and shimmied onto the roof of the small alcove just below his room. He heard his father rattling on his door, but he didn't look back. He couldn't look back now; he was already committed and there was no way he could run back to the failure of a father waiting for him. So he left.  
_

When Draco opened his eyes again, he saw Granger staring at him with a look of horror on her face. "And that's it," he shrugged sadly.


	9. Chapter 9

**Really short chapter oops sorry and sorry about the lateness; like I said, exams and portfolios to build up on. I have my Manchester Met audition tomorrow so I'm kinda freaking out about that. ANYWAY, I own the plot that is all. **

* * *

Hermione leaned back and attempted to run her fingers through her tousled hair: she gave up half way through. Blowing a breath out, she sat up and looked Malfoy in the eye. "That sucks."

Malfoy breathed out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, you could say that. At least it means I'm not having to hurt people any more," he shrugged. Hermione saw the discomfort in his eyes, but decided against mentioning it. There wasn't much point: she knew he would just close off on her. Instead, she reached over and grabbed his hand. He looked up at her, surprised, and she offered him a sympathetic smile. As soon as she did this, she knew she had gone wrong somewhere.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed slightly and he snatched his hand away. "I don't need your pity," he snapped.

"No, Malfoy-" Hermione started.

He grabbed her hand yet again and yanked her up. They were so close that she could feel his breath on her forehead. "Get out," he snarled. Hermione struggled to get out of his grip, but he managed to drag her to the door. As Malfoy reached for the door, Hermione snatched her wrist from his grip and shoved him against the wall next to them.

Keeping her arm across his chest, pinning him down, she told him to calm down. "I didn't mean anything by that, trust me. I didn't!"

Malfoy scoffed. "Yeah, 'course." He reached behind him and yanked the door open. "Get."

Hermione peered into his eyes, anxious of what she would see. All she saw was the cold, shut off silver that she was so used to. Sighing slightly, she realized there was nothing she could do except tell him about her... accident. There was no way she could tell anyone that though. No possible way she could let that monster out on anyone.

Stepping away from him, she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "that's all." As she slipped past him, she thought she saw his eyes widen slightly, possibly even look moderately sad. But who was she kidding - this was Malfoy no-heart she was talking about. Malfoy, who had basically caused the death of Dumbledore; the one who had tried to kill her, Ron and Harry during the battle in exchange for a wand; the one who joined the wrong side, then tried to slither back into good when he realized You-Know-Who was done for. The one who's father caused the death of the only man she had ever really loved.

She sped down the tiny hall, brushing past a woman struggling up the stairs with arms laden with shopping, and burst out of the door gasping for breath.

"Alright babe," sneered a boy who looked no more than 15 with a group of 'mates'.

"Piss off," Hermione spat as she collapsed against the wall, head in hands. When she looked up again, the boys were swaggering towards her, jeering. Hermione groaned inwardly. She didn't need any more drama that week.

"I says, alright babe," he snarled slightly, a grin that looked more like a snarl tainting his face. His friends laughed and shoved the guy forwards, egging him on. Hermione stood up.

"I know what you said," she said sweetly, "and I replied with "Piss off". Is that too hard to understand?"

The boy snarled even more, getting right into her personal space. "No one speaks to me like that, you get me, babe? Now, you're gonna suck my cock and then suck my mate's cocks, and you're gonna like it." He started to put his hands against the wall on either side of her head, but her fist suddenly collided with his stomach.

As he buckled over, she grabbed his collar and brought her lips to his ear. "Never speak to a girl like that," she spat, "and if you do, I will hunt you down and I will give you the beating you so sorely deserve." She threw him away from her and glowered down at him. He quickly scrambled up and ran back to his friends.

"She's crazy, man," she heard him whimper as they ran away. As she strode away, she could have sworn there was a flash of white blonde in the door. Could it have been Malfoy was checking up on her again?

* * *

Draco made his way back upstairs. He had heard a commotion from his open window and gone down to check what it was. When he got to the top of the stairs, it had been relatively clear it was Granger getting herself into trouble. Again. When he had got to the door, he saw the cause of the trouble - a young boy - sprinting away past his friends. She could obviously deal with it herself.

Smiling slightly, he jogged back up the stairs and into his himself on his sofa again, he buried his face in the cushion he slept on last night. He had to stop this worrying. Granger had made it clear that she could fend for herself, so why did he still fret over her safety.

His eyebrows drew together as he yelled into his pillow. How had he got himself into this mess? He had only wanted to bring some familiarity into his new world, how had he fallen for Hermione Know-It-All Granger, Potter's best friend and Weaslebee's lover? It didn't make any sense.

But, now he thought of it, nothing really made sense any more. One, he had disowned his family; two, his mother was on the "dark side" now; three, he guessed he was fighting with the order now, though not directly; four, he lived in a Muggle village surrounded by all but one non-magic folk. His life had done a huge U-turn. To say he liked it now would be too far, but he was comfortable. There was no one from either sides out to get him, he had a steady routine, he wasn't in any danger: he was content.

And he didn't want to change a thing. Sure, he would like to have more relationships within the community, be it a girlfriend or just general friends, but being acquaintances with Granger almost sufficed. Almost.

_After today, I'll really put myself out there,_ he decided. He needed some male friends, though hopefully not like those boys he had to watch Granger deal with earlier. He prayed that there were some decent men in this shitty village, but he didn't really get his hopes up; almost all the half decent people at school had despised him, though that was mostly his fault. He decided that he shouldn't be as much of a complete dick to everyone as he was before. Maybe then people would like him.

Maybe... Maybe then Granger would like him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Wrote the majority of this in like 25 minutes I'm so sorry (I'm not)**

* * *

The months rolled on and Hermione began treating Malfoy as more than just another customer. She had realized that they would never be the best of friends, but they had to get along if they both wanted to live in the village and Hermione didn't have the heart to tell him to leave just yet. And Malfoy seemed more than happy to comply.

One day, on her way to work, she heard a familiar voice. Not believing it, she kept walking, but then-

"Hermione!" Hermione whipped around. She recognized that voice, but it couldn't be...

A tall, skinny man with scraggy jet black hair and glasses muscled his way through the crowd. Hermione was frozen. He couldn't be here. How did he know where she was?!

_Lee..._

Blood drained from Hermione's body. She couldn't believe Lee had told Harry; she had foolishly hoped that he forgot where the village was situated, but apparently not. Harry squeezed through two women, both who scowled at him, and yanked Hermione into a bone crushing hug.

"I'm so glad I found you! I've been looking all over since you disappeared!" He held her at arms length, staring at her with his big, goofy grin. A wave of guilt washed over Hermione; she shouldn't have left him all alone and she knew it, but what else could she really have done? It was her fault Ron had died: she should have made him take his wand with him, but she didn't. He wouldn't have died if it hadn't have been for that. "Have you been here the whole time?"

Hermione sighed and stepped away from him, looking down. "Yes," she muttered, letting the guilt get the better of her. "The whole time. Listen, Harry-"

"What's wrong Hermione?" Harry inquired, glancing around. "Has someone done something to you?" She sighed. He was always pretty oblivious.

"No, Harry-"

"No, I want to know. Where do you live? We could go there if you-"

"HARRY!" she barked. "I'm sorry, I can't do this. You have to go."

Harry took a step towards her, looking at her imploringly. She avoided eye contact.

"What? What do you mean?" Harry reached out to her again, but she shrugged him off, crossing her arms. "I can't just leave you here, 'Mione."

"Well, why not? I've been doing fine. I just can't..." Hermione trailed off.

"Can't what?" He was getting angry now, she could tell, but she couldn't stop. "Can't deal with having me here? Can't... Can't put yourself in danger? FYI, Hermione, there are Order members and DA members all over now. And I can protect you! Please-"

Hermione took another step back. What made him think she needed protection? She was doing fine! She needed to sort this out once and for all.

"I can't put you in any more danger!" Harry stepped forwards again and, with with a speed only a seeker could have, yanked her into his arms yet again. This time, she struggled. She tried to push him away, but Harry just placed his hand on the back of her head and forced it onto his shoulder. "Get off me!" She snarled. "Harry, let go!"

At that moment, she saw the ever so familiar blonde haired man appear round the corner. _Shit_, she thought. _Shit, shit, shit._ Feeling her heart shoot up into her mouth, causing a huge lump in her throat, Hermione yanked herself out of Harry's embrace, keeping her eyes on Malfoy. Harry, following her eyeline, caught sight of his old enemy and snarled, pushing Hermione behind him.

"No, Harry, wait-"

"Hermione get your wand." Harry held her behind him with one arm, the other groping for his wand.

"I don't have it," she whined, "just calm down!"

"Malfoy," he spat, shoving her behind him even more.

Malfoy, who had been focusing on Hermione with a confused look, glanced up to see who had spoken to him. Hermione could almost read the _oh shit_ look that overcame his face. "Harry, stop!"

"Hermione, stay behind me! You know how dangerous he is and you don't even have your _wand!_"

Malfoy froze and Hermione felt an overwhelming urge to run to his side; to protect him. But, of course, Harry wouldn't let her. Either he had been working out or she had become weak, because she couldn't get away from his arm or even push it out of the way. She replaced this with shoving his back so hard that he flinched forwards slightly, and pleading with him not to do anything.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at her, confused. That was all she needed. She sprang into action, shoving his slightly relaxed arm out of the way and spinning in front of him, her back to Malfoy. "Listen," she appealed, placing her hands on either side of his face and forcing him to look down at her rather than glowering at Malfoy. "Hey, listen! He's not bad any more. Well, not as horrible as you remember him to be." Harry scoffed and pushed her out of the way. Instead of standing down and letting Harry beat the shit out of Malfoy like she probably would have a few months ago, she weaved around him again and ran to stand in front of Malfoy. Protecting him.

"Hermione, move!" snapped Harry, pointing his wand at the two of them.

"No!" Hermione yelled. "Not until you hear me out!"

"There's nothing to hear out! His father killed your boyfriend; killed my best friend!"

Hermione felt Malfoy tense up behind her. "What?" he muttered, shocked at this new revelation. "Granger, I... What?!"

Letting her head hang slightly, Hermione sighed and turned around. Yet again, she hadn't realized how close they were. The breath knocked out of her. "It's nothing," she murmured when she had caught her breath, "I promise."

She looked into his eyes and saw deep, true concern. Tears sprang to her eyes. "It's nothing," she muttered, tucking a bunch of hair behind her ear.

"Hermione?!" She had forgotten about Harry.

Whipping around, she stared at him, pleading. "Please, Harry. Please stop this. You don't know-"

"I don't know!" He laughed incredulously. "_His father has been hunting me down for the past YEAR!"_

_"_I _know_, but if you would just listen-"

No, Granger," Malfoy interrupted. "He's got a point. Lucius has been hunting him, I know that. And I tried to persuade him not to, believe me. I don't want to see anyone else hurt by my hand."

"It's not by your hand. You're not your father, Draco," Hermione keened quietly, turning to face him yet again.

"It's as good as. Your _bestie_ over there has a right to hate me. I wasn't particularly nice to him when we were at school together, and he doesn't know me."

"Hermione!" Harry shouted again, waving his wand in their direction. "Get away from him!"

"No, Harry," choked Hermione, "I'm not moving." She steadily placed herself in front of Malfoy, preparing herself for either of the men shoving her out of the way.

"Granger, stop it," Malfoy snarled into her ear. "I can handle this."

Hermione ignored him, watching Harry's emotions unceremoniously spread across his face. She saw the hurt, the anger, the confusion in his features and felt each of them hit her like a dagger. But she couldn't leave Malfoy to the mercy of Harry's hand. He didn't deserve that.

"Harry, listen to me!"

"No! How can you do this after everything he did?!" yelled Harry, pointing his wand at the two of them. Hermione reached back and gripped Malfoy's wrist, silently praying he wouldn't try anything stupid.

Blood rushed to her head as she saw Harry's lips form a curse. There was a flash of light and everything went black.


	11. Chapter 11

**I am really sorry about the end oh my god it's either really good but painful, or painfully bad.**

* * *

When Hermione opened her eyes, she saw a strangely familiar room. The bed was too squishy, the smell was too different, there were raised voices in the adjoining room. Wait, raised voices? They weren't there before.

_Oh, shit_. She remembered what had happened; why she was there. How could Harry just fling a curse at her like that? She sprang out of the bed and, ignoring her spinning head, crashed into Draco's living room. It was vaguely similar to when she was here last, but this time Draco was yelling at the door instead of having a shower. She smacked her leg on the side of the coffee table and Draco whipped around.

"Granger," he muttered, relieved. Hermione, however, was far from relieved when she saw his bruised face, the blood stains on the tattered remains of his shirt.

"Shit, Malfoy, what happened?" She made her way towards him shakily. He reached her first.

"Granger, you shouldn't be up," he worried, grabbing the tops of her arms as she threatened to topple over; "you should be resting."

Hermione shook her head stubbornly. "What happened to you?" she murmured, reaching towards his face. She barely heard the slight intake of breath, barely saw Malfoy's features soften slightly when he looked at her, but she noticed.

"I'm fine," he shrugged, smiling down at her. "I'm grand."

"_Malfoy I swear to GOD if you don't open this goddamned door!"_ Harry's voice echoed through the door. Hermione flinched back, but Malfoy kept her steady. Her head spun and she felt her stomach drop.

"Harry?" she called out, unsure.

"Oh, thank god! Hermione get out of there!" demanded Harry. Hermione's blood began to boil and she pulled herself out of Malfoy's grip.

She marched towards the door, Malfoy trailing after her arms out stretched. "Harry Potter, how dare you!" she snarled, flinging the door open.

Harry, looking surprised, backed away slightly. He obviously hadn't expected her to be so angry. Steadying herself on the door frame, Hermione glared at her best friend.

"Hermione," Harry stammered, "you're okay!" His nervous grin faltered as she narrowed her eyes at him. He wasn't getting away that easily.

"You cursed me," she stated coldly.

"Yes, well..." Harry knew there was no point in trying to reconcile his actions, but he tried valiantly. "It wasn't you I wanted to curse; it was Malfoy-"

"You knocked me out."

"Yes, but I-"

"I don't care if you were trying to bloody _kill_ Malfoy. I don't care!" Hermione spat. "I was stood in the way, for Merlin's sake Harry."

"Hermione, I-"

Attempting to take a step forwards, Hermione pointed at him with a dagger-like finger. "That should have stopped you, Harry." Hermone squeezed her eyes shut. The world had started spinning and she swayed on the spot. Suddenly, there were two hands on her elbows, keeping her upright.

Harry stared coldly at the man supporting Hermione. "I've got her, Malfoy," he growled moving forwards, but his message couldn't have been clearer. _Piss off._

"It seems," Malfoy retorted coldly, "that you don't." He drew Hermione into him more just to irk Harry more, and Hermione could feel his heartbeat quicken slightly. Not that she put any thought into it.

Harry grabbed Hermione's hand, but she yanked it away, leaning against Malfoy even more. Harry's eyebrows drew together, hurt. _Good,_ she thought, _he deserves to feel bad._

"Hermione?" pleaded Harry, taking a step towards them. Hermione shrank back into Draco yet again, using him for support and comfort. Her heart was beating so hard with rage that she barely felt his increase yet again.

"Harry, I'm sorry," whimpered Hermione, "but I really think you need to leave." He flinched and her shoulders dropped. She hated causing him this much pain; she loved him, he was like her brother, but she was still raw from Ron that she couldn't have any more triggers around her, especially not real life ones who hated the only man that had kept her sane these past few months. She had only been dealing before through the extensive use of sleeping pills at night and keeping herself busy through the day.

Harry ran his hand over his hair like he was trying to flatten it down and watched her eyes and a flicker of sad acceptance flashed across his features. "Okay," he muttered, finally realising there was no point in arguing. "It'll be hard to explain to Ginny, but okay. I'll do my best."

Hermione stiffened. "Ginny's here?"

Harry froze. He obviously hadn't meant to say that. "No!" he revoked, panicked. "She's not here, what- where did I get that from?" Laughing nervously, he flattened his hair down more and avoided eye contact.

Hermione felt like she had been punched in the stomach. _Ginny was here. Ron's little sister! _Malfoy gripped her elbows yet again as she swayed, eyes unfocused. "Granger," Malfoy murmured in her ear still supporting her, "maybe you should come in and-"

"No," snarled Harry, starting towards them. "I think you've done enough, _Malfoy._"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione straightened up slightly and put her hand out. "Harry, stop." Harry paused, staring at her in bewilderment. _Why can't he see that Malfoy is helping?_ "Please, just get Ginny and go." She turned, gripping Malfoy's arm for support, and staggered back into the flat. She was almost inside when she decided to look over her shoulder. Harry was frozen as if he was still intending to walk towards her, to collect her from the man he thought was so bad, but his face told a different story. It looked like he had just been slapped in the face. And it was all Hermione's fault.

She stopped in the door frame. "Go inside," she told Malfoy. When he looked down at her, unsure of whether she was steady enough, she took a deep breath and smiled bravely. "I'll be fine, I just want to talk to him."

Malfoy leaned in. "You can talk to him with me here, Granger," he muttered suspiciously. "It's like I'm not even here anyway."

"No, I need to do this," she assured him.

Keeping his eyes on her, Malfoy let go of her upper arms and weaved into the flat. She pressed her head against the wall just outside the door frame and gave him a slight nod. The door clicked shut.

This click seemed to provoke something inside Harry and he jerked towards her again. She held out her hand, stopping him. Again. Taking a deep breath, she swung round to face him, making sure she still leant against the wall slightly. "Harry, please."

This seemed to be more effective than her hand in making him stop. His eyes flicked between her eyes, trying to figure out what was going on, but Hermione didn't break contact. She couldn't. She felt the rush of heat that usually came before tears flush her cheeks and stepped forwards. There was no way to stop herself any more. Harry closed the slight gap and, as he opened his arms, she fell into them and sobbed.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered, fingers grasping his shirt. He stretched his chin onto her head, still not having grown any taller.

"There's no need to be sorry," he shushed, patting her back awkwardly. "There's nothing to be sorry for. I'm not sure why you're so... _friendly_ with Malfoy, but I guess if it keeps you happy and stuff, there's nothing I can do - I want to do to change it."

Hermione sniffled slightly, squeezing him. He was such a good friend and she... wasn't. When she looked at it from his point of view, she was hanging out with the son of the man who killed his best friend. She could understand why he was so annoyed about her being so civil with Malfoy, but Harry couldn't rule her life all the time, even if it was through guilt.

She heard a slight cough from behind the closed door, followed by a series of curse words. Glancing over her shoulder, a small, shaky laugh left her lips and she wiped the few tears away from her cheeks. She knew he was watching.

Stepping out of his embrace, Hermione looked up at Harry. He was glowering at the door. Laughing a little bit more, she grabbed his face in her hands and forced him to look down at her.

"He's not as bad as you think, you know," she smiled. Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

"He's taking you away from me."

"What?" Hermione took a tiny step back. "He's not, I don't-"

"You don't want to be around me because of _him_," Harry snarled half-heartedly. Hermione couldn't stay angry with him.

"I don't not want to be around you," she sighed, leaning against the wall yet again. "It's just, I don't... I'm not sure I can take it just yet, because, well, you know... Ron, and... everything."

Harry closed his eyes. "How am I going to tell Ginny this? She was so excited-"

"Just say you couldn't find me. Say... Say I'm not here. I don't want anyone else finding me."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to lie to her," he muttered. Opening his eyes, he saw Hermione's deep brown eyes pleading with him. "But I'll try."

Hermione let out a relieved sigh. She said her farewells to Harry, giving him a tight squeeze, and turned back to Malfoy's door. It was open before she had even knocked, Malfoy flashing out to hold her up. She waved him away, feeling as steady as she would that day, but he hovered behind her as he had earlier until she had sat down. Instead of sitting down on the other seat, he settled next to her on the couch, pulling her into an awkwardly placed hug.

"It'll be okay," he murmured into her hair.

Hermione let out a breathy laugh. "Well, if Harry keeps to his word, which I know he will, I know it will." She pulled herself out of the embrace carefully, keeping her hands on his forearms. He watched her with wide eyes, almost as if he would do anything she told him to. Hmm, what if...

_No. _She couldn't take advantage of him like that. "Listen, thanks for looking after me and all, but I really should get going." She started to stand up, using his forearm as leverage.

"No," Malfoy objected, gripping her other arm and pulling her back down. When she opened her mouth to object, he spoke again. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

Hermione saw something in his eyes that she hadn't seen before; at least, not in him. That was the only thing that made her pause. She watched him curiously, brown meeting silver; earth meeting ice. She watched his breath hitch, his pupils dilate slightly when he looked at her, his shoulders relax when he looked away.

_Oh._


	12. Chapter 12

**My bad... **

**P.S. so much fluff whY**

* * *

Draco saw Granger's eyes flicker towards the door.

_Crap_.

He shouldn't have started this. Squeezing his eyes shut, he scolded himself for being so dumb. He had been so cautious all his life, but a few months with Granger seemed to have an effect on him, other than the obvious. He had grown soft and, he couldn't believe it, truthful. He heard Granger sigh softly. He squinted through his eyelashes and saw she was looking at him with pity in her eyes.

_Crap!_

"Draco..." Granger started, reaching towards him. He sprang up.

"No, never mind," he spluttered. "It doesn't matter."

Granger watched him with her big, brown, beautiful eyes, and Draco avoided her stare with his best effort. His mind was reeling; why had he even brought this up? And so soon after the whole Potter incident?! He really was losing his mind. Staring out of the window with wide eyes, he ran his fingers through his hair and gulped. He didn't dare look at her. If he did, he knew he would lose his mind completely and... Well, who knows what he would do! He felt a warm hand encircle his wrist and, finally, he looked down at her.

_Mother f-_

"Draco, it does. It always matters," she breathed. Her voice was so slight that he could barely hear her, but his breath still caught in his throat. The sun was streaming through the gap in the curtains and, of course, hit her right in the face. He could almost count the freckles spattering her nose, and her fluffy hair glowed in the sunlight like the halo she so dearly deserved. It was then that Draco realized that she could never love someone so heartless, so cold as him.

He snatched his wrist away from her tight grasp and she stood up. Draco refused to look down at her. He could feel her soft, hesitant breath on his collar bones and held his breath, steadily staring over her head with a clenched jaw.

_Stupid stupid stupid stupid_

"Draco, look at me," she whispered so softly that Draco wasn't even sure she had said anything.

He glared at his refrigerator with such venom that someone might have thought it had just insulted someone he loved._ How in God's name could I be so stupid?!_ He was supposed to be one of the smartest boys in their year when they were at school, but when it came to _feelings_... God, he was an idiot. His breath came out in short puffs as he clenched and unclenched his fists nervously. He heard Granger start laughing softly.

_And now she's laughing at me,_ he though angrily. _Brilliant._

"Don't," he whinged slightly, feeling every giggle stabbing into him. She was laughing at him. "Stop!" He pulled away from her, refusing to watch as she smothered her giggles with a dainty hand. The more he looked, the more he fell.

"I'm not-" Granger choked out, "I'm not laughing-"

"You are," scowled Draco, crossing his arms in defense.

"No, no, I'm not laughing at _you_," she giggled, sitting down again and clutching her stomach. He glanced down at her, face softening as he saw her arms wrapped around her waist and the tears rolling down her rosy cheeks.

"What are you laughing at, then?" he grumbled, more than slightly confused. _What else could be so painfully hilarious?_

Granger took some time to calm down, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Draco had stared at her, mouth open slightly and crease between his eyebrows softening. In watching her, he noticed the most minor details one could. He noticed the way her nose crinkled slightly when she was smiling; the way she repeatedly smoothed her hair down as if she thought it would go any flatter; the way she covered her mouth with her hand when she laughed, though this was probably because of her self conscious attitude towards her teeth. Draco instantly regretted making them grow so much in their fourth year.

Taking a deep breath, Granger looked up at him, catching him off guard. His features softened at the sight of her smiling at him instead of cursing. "I'm laughing at the _situation,_" she grinned. When Draco's eyebrows drew together, she rolled her eyes and continued. "I just never expected... This. You've always been so cruel to me, especially at school," she said, quickly sobering up. Draco looked away.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," he babbled quietly. "I was such a little shit when I was younger."

Granger smiled. "I know. But you're different now, right?"

He looked down at her, trying to put some sincerity into his eyes. "Right."

Hermione smiled and attempted to tuck her hair behind her ear. Now, it was Draco's turn to laugh: she always had problems with her hair. He saw Granger's breath catch and stopped laughing suddenly, watching her with a wondrous expression.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, leaning back slightly, a smile playing on his lips. She blinked as though she was being forced out of a daze.

"Nothing," she said breathlessly. Coughing slightly, she stepped away from him and looked towards the door. "Nothing at all."

Draco's brows drew together again. She didn't like him, he knew it. She was just... Just being the kind Granger that her friends knew, but that facade would soon disappear. She was staring at the door like it was a piece of Runes that she couldn't work out; he had seen and mocked that expression so many times before when they were in their lessons. A lump appeared in his throat and he swallowed heavily, fists clenched. Now she was away from him, he could see clearly: she was mocking him. She would go back to that little cafe of hers and laugh about it with her little worker friends.

She glanced up at him, a shadow of her grin on her face. He looked away. "Malfoy?"_  
_

_Ah, she was back to calling him Malfoy again._

"Malfoy, what's-"

"You need to go," he murmured, looking out of the window. She stepped back like she had been punched, but he dismissed it.

"What?"

Draco sighed heavily and sarcastically. "You need. To go," he said through clenched teeth. He knew it was out of line; he wasn't angry with her, but he couldn't help it. His defense mechanisms always seemed to rotate around violence and anger. He stepped away from her, mirroring her actions, and crossed his arms over his chest. He walked steadily to the window and glared at the unsuspecting Muggles below him.

"Draco, I-" Hermione started. _Granger_. _Granger_ started.

"Don't," Draco snarled. "Just, don't." He didn't want to be like this: it was a reaction that was pounded into him through years of living and fighting with his father and 'friends'. There was just no way to stop once it had started.

"I don't understand!" she moaned, confused and trying to grab his arms and make him look at her. He was way too fast for that. "Draco, look at me! What have I done wrong?"

"Nothing!" he yelled. "That's the problem! You can never do anything wrong, can you? You're just perfect at everything!"

Her bottom lip dropped slightly, causing her lips to fall into a small "o". She quickly regained composure and went to him. "I'm far from perfect, Draco," she said sadly. "If only you knew some of the things I think... I've done..." She sighed and sat on the window ledge in front of him, arms crossed, mirroring him. "I'm no more perfect than you are, Draco."


	13. Chapter 13

Life went back to normal. Draco went to Granger's café every day, then he would go away for a few hours to God knows where, only to return and order his regular lunch: spicy green leaves Panini and a coffee. And every day, Granger was pleasant to him, being slightly chatty, but the cafe was so busy that she couldn't stay for long. He could have watched her for hours. She span between tipping plates held by dancing co-workers and bustling tables, a small smile on her face the whole time.

They hadn't talked about... That day. It constantly played in Draco's mind; the look on Granger's face, the sharp intake of breath, her chocolate eyes playing tricks on him. Each time he paid too much attention to it, his breath was knocked out of him. She never noticed. He doubted she would: she seemed to have many suitors and he was an enemy. Not _the_ enemy, but an enemy all the same.

* * *

Surprisingly soon, it was spring. Hermione and Malfoy were becoming closer and closer. Hermione would go so far to call them close friends now. Just friends. Though she denied it to her colleagues, she smiled every time she saw him approaching the door. It was a soft, happy smile, but it was scrubbed away by the time he entered.

Her friends didn't seem to understand why he liked her so much. Neither could she now she thought of it: Sure, she had matured a little, but she was still Hermione Granger, the 'know it all' annoying student who liked the sound of her voice a little too much. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it was still somewhat true. Maybe he had changed a _lot._

She found herself watching him when he wasn't looking; roaming his features hungrily with her eyes, drinking in every little bit of his persona. She had learnt that, when confused, he would run his fingers through his hair, leaving his hand clinging onto the back of his neck; when annoyed, his eyes would tighten around the edges and he would bite his thumb nail; when amused, he would try to hide his smile by (probably) biting the edges of his mouth down. She was a very observant girl.

One day in mid-spring, Draco meandered into the cafe, book in hand and sunglasses on head. His shorts cut off just above the knee and, Hermione had to admit, he had nice legs. Really, it wasn't really that warm, but the look was good on him. She bounced over all curls and grins, and welcomed him yet again. Something seemed different today, though; it was a lot like that night a few months ago when he...

She shook her head slightly and readjusted her smile. There wasn't anything different; she was imagining it. Leading Draco to his table in the corner of the cafe, she chattered mindlessly, though there was nothing to really chatter about: he came in twice a day quite a lot now and she had told him all the stories already. She wondered where he got the money from to buy all of this food _and_ rent a flat. The idea that he probably got it from his parents flashed in her mind and she pushed it away quickly.

She spun around and handed him the menu. "Do I really need to ask?" she questioned with a smirk. Draco looked from the menu in her hand to her eyes.

_Oh._

He raised his eyebrow expectantly. "Do you?"

She felt a blush rising in her cheeks and looked away. _Dammit!_

"Thought not," he snickered quietly. She looked back at him and _Oh! _He was so close! She could almost count his eyelashes and felt his breath tickle her nose. Clearing her throat, she stepped away from him, a definite blush heating her cheeks now.

"Lovely," she piped breathlessly before turning and making a speedy retreat to the kitchen. When she came back out, she saw Draco hunched over a book. Again. Seriously, all this guy seemed to do was sit in her cafe and read! She weaved back through the tables, tea and biscuits precariously balanced on the tray in her hand. After setting the sparse meal down in front of the man with a brief smile, she hurried back to the kitchen.

The cafe was relatively quiet, so she needn't worry about customers going unnoticed. Leaning her head against the cold side of the fridge, she let our a deep sigh. What was wrong with her? Why was she getting so... Flustered? It wasn't like anything had changed. A splash of heat lingered on her cheeks, caressing them. Sighing, she scrubbed her cheeks, trying to make the blush go, and rolled out of the kitchen door.

As Hermione welcomed her next customer, she glanced over to Draco's table. He was hunched over his book, stirring his tea with one hand, in deep concentration. Her lips twitched into a half-smile as she lead the customers to their table, wondering what book he was reading today. He seemed to have a preference for the Gothic, Romantic and, if he was feeling slightly lazy, the Modern novels. Easy to read. She hadn't recognised the cover of this one but, to be honest, she hadn't really looked.

After delivering the latest customers food, she strolled back to the counter, biting at her fingernail. She glanced over to Draco yet again and saw... _What's he doing?_ He sat, leant back against the back of his chair, book on the table but still stirring his tea, smirking at the girl perched opposite him, boobs out for all to see. Rage filled her. Who was this girl and why was he speaking to her like that?! He leant forwards, resting his hand on the middle of her thigh. She felt like someone had punched her in the stomach, knocking the breath out of her. Her hands found the side of the counter and she gripped it, trying to keep herself steady. She couldn't let him see her like this.

He glanced over at her while the girl was nattering to him and, wheezing, Hermione forced her face into a pleasant smile and waved. He waved back, confused. As soon as he looked back at the girl, she spun around and crashed into the kitchen. It was still empty. Putting her hands on either side of the door frame, she forced herself to breathe slowly. Why did he have this effect on her; he was just one of her friends! _Shit..._ She heard the chatter of two of her colleagues approaching the door and flew into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her just as the door of the kitchen opened.

"Hermione?" called out one of the girls. "Hermione, are you okay?" It was Jo, Hermione could tell from her slightly northern accent. She squeezed her eyes shut, breath coming in short pants. She recognized the symptoms from her sixth year at Hogwarts; the flushed cheeks, the racing heart, the instant jealousy when he spoke to other girls. This was what she felt for Ron.

_Shit!_

"I'm fine," she called back breathlessly, gripping the edge of the sink and struggling to breathe steadily. She heard them start to move away, but sealed her lips all the same.

"Hermione, you-"

"I said, I'm fine!" Hermione snapped back. She knew it was unkind of her, but she had to deal with this on her own: it wasn't anyone else's problem. She heard the girls awkwardly clear their throats and, after a few uncomfortable moments, they both moved away whispering. She perched on the edge of the toilet seat, holding her damp forehead in her hands.

She couldn't feel like this. Not for Draco Malfoy. It would be like... Like an insult to his memory. She just couldn't...

But would it be so bad if she did? She knew he had changed: he wasn't the mean child she once knew and hated. Now, he was... Kind? Maybe that wasn't the right word, but he was working towards it.

He was like Pandora's Box: Someone she knew she shouldn't- couldn't have, but someone she wanted all the same. He was her Pandora's box. She longed to open him up, see what lied below the cool, calm exterior, and help him realize that it was okay.

He was an iceberg; a complex mathematical problem that Hermoinie needed to solve. She had seen a glimpse of his true nature underneath that hard rough exterior, but underneath that water's glassy service Draco was ... more. More than anything she had ever imagined. A diamond with a thousand edges, a window with a thousand drops of water, a problem she could solve. If she allowed herself to.

She took a deep, shaky breath, attempting to run her hand through her hair, giving up half way through and simply tugged it up into a tight bun. With grim determination, she splashed her face with cold water before slamming the door open and marching onto the cafe floor. She ignored the pleas of her colleagues calling to her and stalked to the table Malfoy and the girl were flirting on. When she was almost there, she noticed Draco looking slightly uncomfortable. _Why?_ she thought satirically, _He should be well used to girls flirting with him now; he didn't seem to have a problem earlier. _

She came to a halt just behind Draco and cleared her throat, trying to keep the jealousy she felt away from her features. She felt her lips curve into a smirk as Draco jumped. But when he looked at her, she sensed a bit of relief in his features. Confusion made her mind blank.

"Hermione," Draco murmured as if her name caused restfulness. Her brows drew together, more than confused at his reaction. He had told her he liked her, though not in so many words; that she knew. So why was he flirting with another girl in front of her, but being full of relief when she talked to him? This man made no sense.

"Draco, I need to talk to you," she grumbled. Sending an overly sweet smile to the girl she said, "Excuse us." The girl's face contracted into an offended expression but, without waiting for her response, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him with her.

"Hermione, what-" Draco started.

"Doyouwanttocometominesometim ejustforcoffeeorteaImean-" Hermione let out with her eyes squeezed shut. The feeling of Draco's hands squeezing her shoulders gently was the only thing that stopped her.

"Yes," he muttered. She squinted up at him nervously, only to see his cold mask transform into a sincere smile. The corners of his eyes feathered and, though his smile was small, tiny dimples appeared at the top of his cheeks. Hermione's worries melted and she felt her breath leave her body once more.

"What?" she asked breathlessly, heart thumping.

"Yes, I'll come," he whispered brushing a stray piece of hair away from her eyes. "I'd love to."


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm gonna cry it's sO CUTE**

* * *

He stared at himself in the mirror, raking a comb through his already smooth hair. Draco Malfoy was getting ready for a coffee date with Hermione Granger. No - not date: A coffee between friends. She didn't like him like that, it was pretty much obvious. The outcome was the same, though: Draco Malfoy was getting ready for a coffee date with Hermione Granger. Who would have guessed that? Certainly not Draco. She was way too... Her for him.

That didn't make sense.

Although, not much did make sense any more. It didn't make sense that he, Draco freaking Malfoy was getting ready for a coffee date with Hermione Granger. His stomach was doing backflips and there was a lump in his throat the size of a small dog, yet he still wanted to go. Needed to go. He needed to see if he was just imagining the connection he felt between the two of them or if it was... real. _And wow, that was soppy_, he thought .

He sighed and messed his hair up a little: Too formal. Yanking his favorite t-shirt on, he glanced at the clock. 4:50. They had agreed to meet at 5:30, giving her enough time to get changed out of her uniform. Of course he was early. His hands were shaking, his heart was pounding, and he felt the dampness of a slight sweat sheer the back of his neck. At this rate, he'd have to have another shower.

He needed to try to keep his mind off things and, hopefully, cease the sweating. He hated sweat. So he read. About half way through the book, a single quote jumped out at him particularly hard: "I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once." _John Green_, he thought sadly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, _you've done it again._ How was it that one man who had never ever met or even spoken to him was able to show Draco's entire situation through a few simple words?

After what seemed like no time at all, Draco placed his bookmark into the heartbreaking book and dropped it on the end of his bed. He couldn't finish it; not today. Then he remembered: He had a coffee date with Hermione Granger. He'd lost track of time.

Cursing gently, he glanced over at the alarm clock next to his bed: 7:13. _Shit._

* * *

Hermione sat, hair relatively smooth, hands knotted on her lap. She had worn a dress and makeup for this coffee- was it a date? She didn't know. She hoped so. And yet Draco had not shown. Of course. He didn't actually like her; he was just entertaining the idea. He was just keeping her on edge, just to watch her fall again. Alone.

She looked wistfully at the clock: 7:13. It was too late for a coffee date. Hell, it was too late for anything if they had arranged to meet at 5:30 and he hadn't freaking shown up! In a sudden moment of determination, she stood up, marched to her bedroom, and pulled her jogging bottoms and baggy top on, throwing her discarded dress onto the floor. She yanked her hair up into a tight pony tail and, after choosing a suitably sad film and takeaway menu, collapsed in front of her TV.

She ordered the takeaway, punched play on the TV, and curled up under the blanket on her sofa.

Minutes later, the doorbell buzzed. _That was fast, _she thought gloomily, pressing pause on the barely-started movie. She got up and, looking for her purse on the short walk over to the door, picked up the phone.

"Come up," she said, trying to keep the dejection out of her voice. As she hung up, she heard a deep voice answer. She shrugged it off; it was probably just the delivery guy saying thanks or... Or whatever. Her purse was perched on the side of the kitchen counter and, full of self-pity, she grabbed it and scrabbled inside to find the right change. Why was she being such an idiot about this? It wasn't really that much of a surprise to her; no boys ever really liked her. Even Ron, her husband, hadn't been truly faithful. Not that she felt any anger towards him; she would have tried to kiss anyone else if she was dating herself and had the chance. She never told anyone that, not even Harry. She wanted people to keep their good view of their friend instead of a tainted view she had put into their minds.

A knock at the door broke her out of her trance. She sighed sadly, feeling sorry for herself. "Coming!" she called, grabbing a handful of change. She slouched over to the door and, without looking through the peep hole, flung the door open. And there stood Draco Malfoy, dressed... Well, dressed nicely. That was all she could say.

"I'm so sorry," he began, "I-"

"What are you doing?" she asked, confused. Why would someone turn up and hour and a half late without calling? Her fist clenched on her door.

"I'm sorry, I was reading and I lost-" he tried to continue.

"Why didn't you even _call_ me?" she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. _No_. She mustn't cry. Turning her back to him, hand still gripping the door, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She didn't bother waiting for a reply; it would only make things more awkward. "I guess you'd best come in, Malfoy." She spat his name as she had learnt to at school, trying to hide her disappointment.

She could feel the rejection radiating off him, even with her back turned. He didn't like her, he never would, and there was no point in pining over someone she couldn't have. He stepped into her home and sighed. She slammed the door shut behind him. When she looked back, he was hovering awkwardly near the door, fist swinging against his thigh.

"Listen, Granger-"

"If you're going to talk to me, call me Hermione," she snarled before adding, "please," sweetly.

His eyebrows drew together. "Ok... Hermione..." His voice rose an octave on her name. Clearing his throat, he rubbed the back of his neck absent mindedly, not taking his eyes off her. "I was reading. It was an emotional part," he said, shrugging slightly; he was self conscious. Hermione scoffed. That's likely; she saw him reading every day at the cafe, but none of his books were really _emotional. _They were more... Intellectual. It was usually some Victorian literature, or some writer everyone had heard about but no one had the guts to read. She avoided his gaze, scowling at a spot on the wall just over his head.

"No, really," spluttered Malfoy, taking a step towards her. She stepped away at exactly the same time, like there was some invisible force-field between them, and crossed her arms tightly under her chest. His arms dropped to his sides again. Defeated. "Hermione, please."

Her breath caught in her throat; she had made the mistake of letting her eyes drift to his. His crystal blue pierced through her russet, knocking the breath out of her. How could one so cold be so beautiful? Her brain felt like it had just been scrambled, yet she couldn't take her eyes off his. Blood thundered in her ears, making it hard for her to hear him, yet she couldn't take her eyes off his. A lump formed in her throat, yet she couldn't take her eyes off his. This was different to her and Ron: She and Draco were... different... Opposites. But in the same way, they were the same; like two sides to the same coin. They were never supposed to be together, but sometimes things like that just can't be stopped.

He dared to take another step towards her, but this time, she didn't step back. His hands came up to rest on her shoulders, rubbing gently. "Please, trust me," he murmured. "Please."

Hermione's brows knitted together as her confusion got the better of her. Why was he asking her that? He had wanted to humiliate her; he wouldn't have been over an hour late if he wasn't. But what if-

"I promise, I swear to Merlin I'm telling the truth." He cupped her cheek in one hand, forcing her not to break the eye contact. Hermione felt his thumb brush against the corner of her eye and her eyelids fluttered, but she didn't dare take her eyes off him. She couldn't. It was like her eyes were glued to his by a force well beyond her power.

He cautiously lent in, eyes connecting with hers, trying to gauge a reaction. Her eyes grew wide, realising what was about to happen. She could feel his breath teasing her lips, waiting for her to jerk back, but she couldn't; she was paralyzed. She felt her heart beat slow to almost a complete stop. Her arms dropped to her sides lifelessly as she felt his nose nudge her cheek as he lent in further. Her heart raced as she tried to hold back, wanting to still be annoyed with him; this was too... bizzare. She could feel the static jumping between their lips, felt his brushing against hers, neither daring to lean that extra few millimeters to complete the inevitable. In a split second decision, Hermione grabbed the back of Draco's head and smashed their lips together.


	15. Chapter 15

**You can tell I was slowly losing my mind during this chapter wow sorry for the lateness again!**

* * *

Draco's arm weaved round her waist, his head spinning. _It was finally happening!_ He couldn't believe it; he was finally kissing the only woman he had ever loved- No, he didn't love her. It was only strong affection. He was just... Just affectionate for her...

Hell, yes he did. He loved her with all his heart: He realized there was no point in even attempting to deny it any more. He felt her lips curve up beneath his, smiling. His lips mirrored hers, molding to their shape exactly. It was pretty cliche how well they seemed to dance together. But this was the best kiss Draco had ever shared. Granger's fingers brushed the nape of his neck, causing shivers to shake his spine and making him break away from her, gasping for breath. He felt her move towards him, craving more. He heard the slam of the door behind him and, picking her up slightly, moved himself and Granger towards the kitchen counter, angling his head even more to deepen the kiss. _I love her,_ he thought breathlessly, _I love her I love her-_

"I love you," he whispered against her lips, surprising himself. He felt her breath shiver on his lips and closed his eyes. That had just slipped out; he hadn't meant to be that blunt with it. It wasn't the admission he'd anticipated: He had wanted the whole roses and candles ordeal, but he'd forced it to be rushed and spur of the moment. Not what he had expected at all.

"What?" asked Hermione breathlessly. Draco opened his eyes, watching her features carefully. Her eyes were half-shut, like she was watching his lips carefully. Draco took a deep breath.

"I said-" his voice broke. Clearing his throat, he tried again; "I said, I love you." His heart was racing more than it ever had before. His eyes desperately searched Hermione's face, hoping to see any sign of recognition in her beautiful features. She was remaining as blank as a slate - that scared him.

After what seemed like an eternity, she took a deep breath. "Don't."

Draco drew back again, hands cupping Hermione's cheeks. "What do you mean?" he muttered, brows drawing together.

"I mean... I don't know. Just don't," she muttered, trying to step away from him. His hands tightened on her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. "Draco..." Her hands encompassed his, thumbs stroking the backs of his hands. Her eyes were a swirling mass of emotions, gold flecks weaving through chocolate streaks; he could count the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks; he noticed the way her lips parted slightly, showing the teeth he had "accidentally" grown in Third year, and his heart skipped a beat or two.

"Granger," he said evenly, "what do you mean 'don't'? You... You don't want me to be in love with you, or...?" His words died in his throat as he watched her squeeze her eyes together like she was in pain. "Oh."

He let go of her cheeks. Hermione looked up at him just as he looked away, bile rising in the back of his throat. Of course. His father had killed Weasley, a tiny voice in the back of his mind scolded; he was her first... Well, probably her first love. Of course she couldn't forgive him for something like that. As his eyes closed, he let the voice overcome him. His stomach was turning as he swallowed heavily. He had known that they could never be together; who had heard of the Gryffindor getting it on with the Slytherin. Especially if said Slytherin was a past Death Eater - _even if he had no other choice_!, Draco argued - and the Gryffindor was the best friend of the man the Slytherin was forced to fight all his life. And if said Slytherin had called the Gryffindor a Mudblood more than once.

It was just impractical!

Draco felt the heat rise in his neck and he just new the tips of his ears were almost luminescent with embarrassment. The silence between them lingered like a bad smell; neither of them wanted it around, and yet there it was.

They were still unbelievably close. He could hear her breath shaking and her hair started tickling his chest as she shifted awkwardly. He didn't dare look at her.

After what felt like an eternity, Draco felt Granger's palm cup his cheek and softly turn his head to look at her. His heart raced as he complied silently, gritting his teeth and preparing himself for the rejection that was bound to come.

"Draco," she said gently, almost as if she pitied him. Again. When he tried to pull away, embarrassment eating at his stomach, she grabbed his other cheek and forced his to look at her. "Draco, listen to me," she said more forcefully. He locked eyes with her, forcing himself to glare at her. His jaw jutted out as he felt her warm palms squeeze his cheeks as he had done moments ago. He looked ridiculous, he knew it. The blush that was creeping up his neck didn't help his case, either.

Her eyes shone in the light through the window and, as he clenched his teeth, he felt his breath get knocked out of him. He didn't understand how he had missed her beauty before. As he opened his squashed mouth to speak, he felt her finger press down on it, silencing him. An automatic growl ripped through his chest and, before he could stop himself, he grabbed her wrists and held her away from himself. A hurt look flashed across her face and Draco felt momentarily guilty, but she was testing him. Again.

"I _get_ it, Granger," he spat, brows scrunching together. "You don't want to see me. No need to gloat-"

"Oh, for Merlin's _sake_," she sighed, frustrated. Snatching her wrists from his hands, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked down, chewing the inside of her cheek. It was in that moment that Draco knew he was in the wrong. He stayed frozen, arms still slightly outstretched, brows knotted together. "I didn't mean anything like that, Draco! I just meant... I- Hell, I don't even know." The slightest pinkness spread over her cheeks like watercolour on a canvas. All Draco wanted to do at that moment was to collect her in his arms and tell her it would be all alright; something was stopping him. It was like a wall was pressing against his chest, compressing his lungs. Breath came out in short puffs as he watched Hermione shift her weight from foot to foot angrily, arms knotted across her chest, glaring at the ground next to his feet.

The silence between the two dragged on, both panting slightly, hair slightly disheveled. Neither wanted to hate the other, to not talk to the other, but they didn't know what to say. Draco's mind screamed at him, begging him to say something, _anything_, but he couldn't fathom his thoughts into words. Instead, he just stared with pursed lips at something over Granger's shoulder.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she opened her mouth and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Of course, it flopped out again and Draco bit his lip, forcing himself not to smile. She really didn't know how endearing the small things were, did she? Her eyebrows knotted together as Draco looked away again, fighting the smile that was creeping across his face.

"I..." Granger squeaked. She cleared her throat before continuing; "I just don't think- We shouldn't really- Um..." Draco's heart dropped as he anticipated failure. His father had always told him, "If you don't succeed, get out." His plans to leave the village would just have to be fast-forwarded a little. And without a major feature.

"It's fine," he sighed, running his hand over his face. "It's- I was stupid to just- just blurt it out. Sorry." Granger moved towards him, face contorting into a piteous gaze. This time, Draco didn't feel any rage towards her; he was defeated.

"Draco-" Granger stuttered, nibbling on her bottom lip. She didn't know how much he wanted to kiss her in that moment. "It's not that I don't... You know... I mean, I can't- It's hard for me to... You know. It's just... Hard."

Draco saw her eyes filling with tears and his arms reached out automatically, dragging her to his chest. His arms wrapped around her and she burrowed her face into his chest, sniffling. "It's okay," he muttered into her hair. "I understand. I mean, I think I do..." His heart hammered against his ribs as he squashed his face into her hair, just enjoying her closeness. "I can wait."

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**Okay now time for a little bit of a longer a/n explaining why I'm so shitty at updating: Basically, EXAMS - I have all my big BIG _BIG_ exams this summer so I'm freaking out about them and I have a resit at the end of next week so I'm freaking out about that and I literally can NOT do exams ever. But I have to if I want to get into Uni. So...**

**And anyway, I was suffering from a bit (a lot) of writer's block so I'm so so sorry! **

**But yeah this is me begging for forgiveness! I really should start planning where I want my next chapters to go so I can just churn them out.**

**OH and because of exams etc. I'll try to get a new chapter up every other week or so, but please don't get angry if I don't manage it I'm trying I promise! **

**(PS love you all) **


	16. Chapter 16

**Guess who's back from the unannounced hiatus!**

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The next few weeks was nothing special: Draco came to the cafe every day and sat in his corner, drinking his coffee and eating the cakes Hermione suggested. Hermione was beginning to wonder how he even got all the money for the infinite list of books he managed to acquire, but she never really thought to question it. The conversation between the two stayed light and breezy, but there was still a tension there that nagged to be solved. Hermione tried her best to ignore it, as supposedly Draco did, but there was always something nagging at her, something she couldn't ignore; every time he walked into the room, her stomach dropped, her heart raced, and her hands began to sweat. Each time this happened, she forced it out of her mind, but when she went home and was alone, it swamped her mind.

She couldn't fall for Draco: It would be an insult to Ron's memory. But sometimes... Sometimes she couldn't help it. It was the worst when she was alone. She saw him when she closed her eyes; she felt his arms around her as she dozed on the couch; she even thought she sensed his presence as she got ready for bed. She knew it was corny, but she couldn't stop it. There was something about him that made her want to go against everything she ever believed in and just be with him. And she hated it.

The thing she hated more than anything was the feeling of lacking control in her own emotions. The need to be in control of _those_ had been in her nature since before she had even started at Hogwarts: The various misadventures of her and her friends had only heightened it. Draco had make her weak, but she was... Glad.

She wasn't happy with it - not by far - but she was glad that someone had made the effort to break the barriers she had strived so hard to build. Though her heart argued with all its will, she had to admit that even Ron hadn't managed that. But she had known she loved Ron. Draco... Well, she wasn't sure about that. She definitely had strong feelings from him, but she just wasn't sure what they were yet.

Instead of dwelling on this during the day, she kept herself as busy as she could. But soon all she could do was done and she was left alone with her thoughts yet again. One night when she was feeling particularly down, she called Draco. They had both surprisingly bought mobile phones when they pushed themselves into the Muggle world and, once Hermione had given Draco a little tutoring on how to use it successfully (much to his displeasure), they had exchanged numbers. Though they didn't talk to each other through them too often, Hermione still thought it was nice to have that safety net there, knowing he would only be a call away if she was in real trouble.

"Hey," came Draco's soft tone from the speaker of Hermione's mobile, "what's up?" He knew. He knew she only ever called him if something was wrong, and she hated that.

"Nothing," she replied quickly. "I'm fine. I was just..." She took a deep breath and looked out of her window thoughtfully. She didn't know what to say; she didn't even know why she had called Draco in the first place. Was it just to talk, or was it something... more?

"Granger?" Draco's voice was sharper now, more alert. She stifled a giggle; he thought she was in danger.

"I'm fine, I swear," she repeated, glad he wanted to know. "I'm just... bored." She tried to keep the whinging tone out of her voice, but it still seemed to creep in there. Ron always used to poke fun at that tone.

Hearing a soft laugh on the other line made her pulse quicken; she could almost see him, slouched on her sofa, dropping his head slightly with a half-smile. "Did you want me to do something about that?" he mocked slightly.

She smiled, then her eyebrows drew together. "I don't know," she said suddenly. Why had she called him? Was this the reason? She tried to shrug the feeling of betrayal off, but it lingered like a bad smell.

"I'll be right over-" Draco started.

"No!" Hermione retorted tensely. She heard the rustling of Draco getting up on the other end of the phone halt. As he audibly sucked in a breath, she ordered words in her mind that would make sense. "I mean, don't come here, it's a tip-"

"Granger, I've been to yours before. It's the neatest place I've ever seen. Ever," Draco said tiredly. "If you don't want me to come over, just say; I don't mind." Though Hermione could tell he was trying, she could still hear the hurt in his voice. She didn't want to hurt him.

"How about we go _out_?" she replied slyly. The static on the other line was the only thing interrupting the silent disbelief and a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. This was too fast. She didn't want to hurt Draco, but she didn't know if she could do this. Quickly, she added, "As friends."

She heard Draco sigh. "Okay, meet me by the clock tower in 20 minutes."

She bit her lip: she'd let him down again. "Okay," she said, flattening her hair slightly. "See you there."

Silence. Then, "See you." Click. He was gone.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she shouldn't feel bad for letting him down - he was doing his best not to show it – but her heart twinged sadly.

20 minutes later, Hermione was walking towards the Clock Tower in the town centre. Her stomach flipped as she raised a hand to flatten her hair yet again: this was going to be the first time they had met since the... the confession.

Draco was stood there, hands clasped behind his back, waiting. His face was a stoic mask and, shoulders tense, Hermione saw him take a sweep of the streets. Then his eyes rested on her and her breath got knocked out of her. She felt a smile twist her cheeks up and, making her way towards him, her heart fluttered in her throat.

She met him half way between the two places and suddenly felt more at ease. "You're early," she observed.

"I'm aware," he replied, raising his eyebrow cockily. "You okay?"

Hermione had forgotten all about her worries until that moment. Her eyebrows drew together as she looked away, feeling slightly sick. "I'm fine."

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Draco move towards her. His shoulder bumped hers as tears sprung to her eyes. "You're not 'fine', Granger," he muttered, wrapping his arm around her and rubbing her arm roughly. "Nobody's fine."

She let herself stay in that awkward embrace for a few moments, enjoying Draco's closeness, before pulling away and rubbing her eyes roughly with the heels of her hands. She couldn't tell him; it would be too harsh. And anyway, she knew already that she wouldn't be able to form her thoughts into understandable sentences. It was useless.

"I'll tell you some other time," she managed, forcing a slight smile before changing the subject. "So, what do you feel like doing?"

Draco smirked at her cocked his arm, offering his elbow to her. "I have an idea."

Relieved that he'd bought it, Hermione raised her eyebrow. She didn't question him; only wove her arm into his and suppressed a giggle. Nobody had offered her their arm since... Well, since the Yule Ball. They walked for what seemed like hours, chatting mindlessly about nothing in particular. Hermione watched Draco talk, letting him weave them through the bustling streets of their surprisingly hectic village, and couldn't stop her heart from skipping a beat each time he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. But still she refused to accept this was a date; it was merely dinner with a friend.

She knew he was a changed man, that much was obvious, but she was still cautious. Past experiences had told her that she shouldn't be all too careless around Slytherins; they weren't all bad, but they would look out for themselves more than anything else. She was not as narrow-minded as Ron or Harry on that matter. She knew more about them from the books, but she still had her common sense. And all she wanted at that point in time was to throw that away and completely trust Draco.

Eventually, they arrived at a little house on the outskirts. They walked up the path, Hermione drinking in the flowerful garden, the cutesy sofa swing, the incredibly clichéd bird table with a mysterious lack of birds. Everything seemed so... perfect. Hermione shrank into Draco's side, swallowing heavily as fear consumed her. There was bound to be something to go wrong. Draco looked at her curiously, slowing down on the steps.

"Are you okay?" he asked, eyes showing his worry.

"Fine," Hermione choked. "Just peachy." Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from him slightly, arm still hanging onto his, and flicked a stray piece of hair out of her face with a grimace.

Draco brought his other arm round to grab her, swinging her round to face him. She avoided his steely gaze, bowing her head slightly and letting her hair fall over her face. Her fingers trembled on the crease of his elbow and she squeezed her free hand into a tight fist. The adrenaline that came just before a fight rushed through her veins, making her stand up straighter; more confident. Just as she moved to stand apart from Draco, she felt his arms encompass her and her face squished against his chest. Her hands came up to rest lightly against his stomach, the shock of the situation overwhelming her.

As she came to her senses, she began lightly pushing him away; she didn't want to send him the wrong message, even if it was one she wanted to send deep down. His arms tightened round her and pulled her closer, and she felt his face mash into her hair. _He must be brave,_ she thought ruefully; even she hated getting her hair in her face - it was so _frizzy_. Her heart raced as she pushed, biting her lips together. He was making them vulnerable, didn't he see that? Anyone could attack them and, stood as they were, they were utterly defenceless.

"Draco-" she whined, weakening against his strong grip. She had lost a lot of the strength she thought she had gained in the first few months of leaving the wizarding world and magic in whole.

"It's going to be okay," he mumbled into her hair. She closed her eyes, letting her resistance waver, and rested her head on his chest. As she breathed his scent in, Hermione let her mind clear. Her nerves still niggled at the back of her mind, but Draco's arms pulled her closer and, hands resting on his chest, she used him to forget.

A lump jumped into her throat as she pushed away and reality came back to her. This time, Draco let her. He peered down at her, a slight line forming between his eyebrows. Smiling up at him, she too his arm again and dragged him into the tiny house, swallowing the fears that were rushing back to her.

There was nothing else that could go wrong for them... Right?

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**Okay, so I was basically suffering from a severe bout of writers block. The most annoying thing was I wrote a lot of this chapter before, but then I got to a certain point (don't even ask me because I can't remember any more) and I was just like _oh. _MY BAD! If you're still with the story I love you! If not, I don't have to compliment you because you're not even reading this haHA (sorry!)_  
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**Anyways, love you all (especially those who comment *coughs meaningfully*) and THANKYOU 3 I promise I'll try to be more punctual after this! (I already have a few ideas for future chapters and [deep breath] the ending, so that's good).**

**I don't know how to end this... Shall I do a really pretentious signing off? I think I will.**

** - D**


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